


All Of My Worlds Suck

by wilkwo



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-04-12 00:25:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 32,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19120816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilkwo/pseuds/wilkwo
Summary: Takes place immediately after the Season 4 finale, and explores how one rather devilish angel makes his way back home. Hint: he has a little help. Includes the full cast of main characters in various ways. Also explores Chloe's miracle and what that really means for Lucifer... and Trixie! Story is now complete. Enjoy!Originally posted on Fanfiction.net.





	1. On the Seventh Day

_Hi everyone. This is a story that grew from a single idea I'd had since Season 2. It was meant to be a one-shot of about 2,000 words that ended up being 30k, because I've never been good at writing short ;) I wanted to post something on the rather auspicious date of June 6, at somewhere near 6pm, while I was waiting for news on Season 5. I was thrilled to hear about the show renewal, just wish the news hadn't come with quite such a sting. %)_

_This is my first Lucifer fanfic, and takes place immediately after the Season 4 conclusion._

_I'll be dragging you to Hell and back with this story, so I hope you'll stay for the ride ;)_

_Lucifer and all the characters within (even Olga) are owned by Warner Brothers and Netflix._

_Thanks for reading, let me know if I've stuffed anything up, and please comment when you can :D_

* * *

God created the world in six days, and on the seventh he rested.

Or at least that's what he liked to tell his kids.

In truth, the universe had been a bit of an accident, his kids happily so, and his favorite realm (the Earth) a disastrous mistake. He'd fashioned a multitude of realms with precise order and grand purpose, but the Earth and its many denizens had gotten away from him - a haphazard spill of gravity, chemistry and a dash of soul stuff that he never got around to cleaning up and which swiftly took on a wild life all its own.

Over millennia.

He had a terrible attention span, really.

There was a beauty and a richness to the life that grew there though, tempered by tragedies just as deep, that none of his perfected worlds could match. Those other worlds proceeded predictably, as he knew they would, and while it was in his nature to see what lay behind and ahead all at once, the little sphere of Earth never failed to surprise him.

It was messy, and broken and hurting, but from the struggles and the pain came bright waves of light - souls rising to such heights of creativity and dazzling displays of love that it took his breath away.

Not that he actually needed to breathe, but it was a very handy communication tool, particularly in emoting his growing frustration with his co-creator.

The wife.

He sighed.

"This is more important to you than me," she'd said.

"No," he'd said right back.

"Yes."

And then she flooded it, as he knew she would. Thankfully he'd had a fail safe, so not all was lost, but things soured from there, as he knew they would, and he found himself interceding much more frequently as her wrath grew, before his focus seemed to be on the Earth alone.

His kids kept messing with it too, possibly goaded on by their mother. Samael's prodding alone had caused no end of trouble from the very beginning. Literally playing around with the first made, filling them with desire for things he'd not intended them to have.

His reaction, ultimately, had been harsh, for a great deal of suffering seemed to stem from these desires.

He'd kicked his son out, when no amount of reasoning brought him back to his father's sense of sense.

There'd been a war. Brief and greatly enjoyed by Michael, who was always looking for an excuse to hit something.

Samael was sent to Hell. To Lord over the lost souls whose desires had taken them too far in their flickering lives on Earth. And while it had felt fitting at the time, and strangely more fitting when he'd sent his crazed wife down too, he'd not spoken to Samael since.

Not once.

He felt regret, which only grew over the centuries. No distraction seemed to help, not even a too-brief foray into flesh on his treasured Earth. An earnest desire to guide his little creations to live lives of hope and love that went very poorly indeed.

He felt his son's restlessness, and sought some way to reach his boy, but could not pierce the wall of rage Samael had built about himself.

An idea formed though, for he knew what Samael planned to do. An idea on how to reach his son in another way, to be close without being blatantly himself, which seemed to be what irked his son the most.

He'd done it before, after all. He could do it again.

Perhaps with less facial hair this time.


	2. It was you, Chloe

_37 years later..._

 

Chloe could not remember how she got home.

She stood just inside the doorway into her apartment, her arms hanging limply at her sides, staring across the living area to the kitchen, her gaze seemingly trapped by the space.

What had she done?

What the hell had she done?

_Hell_

_...Lucifer_

A noise left her, and her hand shot to her mouth as the apartment blurred away with a rush of tears.

"Mrs. Decker? Is that you?"

She blinked her eyes furiously and wiped at her face as the babysitter came down the last few steps, groping at the rail to steady her portly, cardigan-swathed frame.

"Yes..." The word emerged a whisper. She tried again. "Yes, Olga, it's me."

The woman gave her a narrowed gaze as she crossed the living area and the look made Chloe's heart skip. What  _time_  was it? She'd arranged to be back at 11 p.m. - had she missed it?

"You are late," Olga huffed before grabbing her bag by the door. When she looked up, her gaze softened somewhat, her mottled eyes bouncing back and forth between Chloe's own.

"My dear, are you alright?"

Chloe began nodding, and kept nodding, even as she turned away, looking for a way to pay the woman. "I'm fine. Just fine. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean..."

_I'm so sorry, I didn't mean_

The phone she'd lifted from her back pocket to check the time blurred again, and she closed her eyes, hoping to keep the tears at bay.

They didn't stop. She dug at the money clip in her other pocket, and tried to pull what she needed free. The math wouldn't work in her head - it was 12:25 p.m., she needed to give the babysitter extra, how much?

"Mrs. Decker..."

Grabbing the mangled wad of cash, she thrust it into the woman's hands, deflecting them as they sought to reach her, and she continued to push the woman towards the door.

"Go, please, go," she mumbled, unable to see anything properly at all. "Please."

The woman left, but paused at the stoop, staring back up from the money. "This is too mu-"

Chloe slammed the door shut, turned, and made two strides through the room before falling to her knees.

A cry left her, something that might have been 'no' or 'God' but lost itself along the way. It left her loud, and a small part of her mind knew she couldn't make noises like this, because she'd wake Trixie.

_I'm starting to respect the deceptive little parasite_

His face flashed in her mind, outside the school, after Trixie had asked to ride with him, neutering Chloe's anger at his unbelievable act.

Then his face morphed, to one she'd seen only hours ago, his sharp features softened by both sorrow and a most fragile, humble joy.

_You see... we were wrong about something else in the prophecy. My first love was never Eve... it was you, Chloe. It always has been._

The warm, gentle touch of his hand still lingered on on her cheek.

_Good bye_

Chloe's cry grew, filling her home, as the tears streamed down her face and she slowly folded to the floor.


	3. She won't stop crying

Trixie whimpered under her blankets, her brow furrowing against a nightmare. Lost in the empty halls of her high school, she ran from room to room, each one more ruined than the last, trying to find her way out.

Worse than any of that though, was that someone was crying, someone she couldn't find or see. And as her small hand closed on yet another cold metal door knob in her search for freedom, she realized the woman crying was her mother.

"Mommy?"

The word left her oddly, mumbled and sleepy, and she woke with it. 

Back in her room, not in school, safe.

But... the cry continued.

And she'd  _never_  heard her mom cry like that before.

"Mommy?!"

Throwing the covers and scattering the dolls atop her bed, she kicked off, landing on her small feet, and ran to the door. Using all of her modest and somewhat sleepy weight, she slid it aside.

And stopped in place immediately, her eyes widening, dread prickling the hairs on her arms.

Mom was lying on the floor, curled up tight. Sobbing so hard her body shook.

"Mommy..." she whispered, tears rushing to her eyes as she moved again, running over to drop by Chloe's side. "Mommy?" Reaching out, a sob left her own throat as she caught her mother's face - mouth wide, eyes crumpled in pain and shining with tears.

"Mom, please," she whimpered, and tried to hold her.

Chloe's hand snaked out and grasped Trixie's, hard. Shaking her head, Chloe seemed to try and speak but choked on the words, before folding her other arm over her head and crying anew.

Trixie's dread changed to cold fear. Pulling her hand gently from her mother's, she ran back to her room and past the messy bed to her dresser. Snatching the phone next to her overflowing jewelry box, she ran back, stabbing her little fingers at the screen as she closed the space to her mom.

She grasped her mother's hand again, squeezing it, as Chloe cried beneath her.

It rang for a while, but that made sense. It was, after all, the crazy hour, as her mom used to say, when normal people were sleeping. All the weirdos came out at this time instead and did all the horrible things her mom spent all day trying to fix.

There was a click, and she spoke before he could mumble anything, "Dad!"

"Monkey? What... what's wrong?! Why you calling so late? Are you okay?!"

"Dad! Mommy won't stop!"

"Won't stop? What... Where are you? Is someone crying?"

"She won't stop crying, daddy! Please, come help!"

Chloe grasped her hand, hard, and struggled to rise. "N-no, Monkey, don't... oh God..."

"Where are you, Trixie?"

"Home, daddy, please hurry!"

"I'm coming, Monkey - is she hurt?"

Trixie swallowed and looked her mom up and down for anything bad. It scared her. Would there be blood? Did someone hurt her mom? 

The sudden panic made her heart hurt, but she shook her head against the phone. "No, daddy, I don't see anything."

"Okay, I'm coming right now. You just stay with mom. I'll be right there."

Nodding slowly, Trixie watched as her mom's face crumpled again, and Chloe covered her eyes quickly.

"I didn't mean..." 

Her mother's moaned words devolved to sobbing once more.

* * *

_Hello! Thanks for the reviews! These beginning chapters are a little short, but they get longer as we go along. I have a tendency to write long overall, so this story is crawling its way to 30k. I'll post a chapter (or two) a day (another to come later today) until I've finished writing it, then I might post the rest in one go. Btw, in my take, Trixie is 10 here, since she was 8 in Season 2. Feel free to wrestle me on that ;) Comment if you can, and thanks for reading!_


	4. That selfish prick

When Dan arrived, he opened the door to find his family curled up together on the floor. Trixie was lying against her mother's chest, asleep, with Chloe's arms draped loosely around her.

Chloe was completely out. Her face was a wreck - her eyes swollen shut from her tears, her hair a haphazard mess.

He stood over her, frozen, not knowing what to do.

"Chloe?" he finally whispered, lowering to her quietly and resting his hand against her shoulder.

His ex-wife's eyes slowly opened. Brow dipping in a frown, she turned her head to look at him.

"Dan," she sighed. "I... I'm sorry... you didn't need to come."

"Daddy?" Trixie mumbled, stirring with her mother, and her little hands closed to fists to rub against her eyes.

"You're on the floor, Chloe. I needed to come. Let me get Trix back to bed."

Chloe nodded numbly, lifting her arms so Dan could scoop his daughter up.

"Daddy," Trixie said with a yawn, reaching to wrap her arms around his neck, "you stopped mom crying. I knew you could."

He nodded with a smile, not wanting to dispute it and make her worry again. "Mommy's going to be okay, Monkey. You need to go back to bed now."

She nestled against him, burrowing into his jacket before her arms grew loose again, and he marveled at how much she was growing - while they cuddled on the couch sometimes when she was over, it'd been a while since she'd let him pick her up like this.

As careful as he was she still woke when he got her on the bed, and she looked up at him with wide eyes.

His heart clenched. She'd been crying too.

"Sleep now, Monkey, I'm going to take care of mommy."

Those beautiful brown eyes, full of love and trust, fluttered closed as she nodded and she was swiftly to sleep.

Pressing her favorite doll against her side - how much longer would she want these? - he left, closing the door behind him slowly.

Chloe hadn't moved.

"Goddamn Chloe," he mumbled, moving slowly to her side, "are you hurt?"

He had never seen her like this. Never. A quick scan told him nothing seemed to be physically wrong with her, but perhaps something internal?

Chloe began to cry, new tears following the older trails down her face. "I'm s-so sorry, Dan, I didn't..." The words grew unintelligible, and she pressed her hands to her eyes, as if trying to hide.

"Chloe," he said, in a low, soothing voice, "babe, c'mon. I'm going to move you, okay?"

"No, you don't..." Chloe tried to shift herself, but he held on, pulling her into his arms.

"It's happening, just deal."

The couch seemed the best bet. With a couple of strides he was there, lowering his ex against the soft cushions, upright so he could sit next to her. Chloe's lack of any push back at all alarmed the hell out of him. Any fussing like this would usually get him yelled at, but she only sagged against his shoulder, fresh tears flowing as her mouth twisted - an attempt to stifle her sobs.

He brushed a lock of hair from her face, and his eyes sought hers. "Chloe, what the hell? What happened to you?"

The eyes he'd been chasing closed tight. Her mouth fell with a cry.

Cradling her head against his shoulder, he merely held her, until the sobs turned to messy breaths.

A thought struck him, one that brought a scowl to his face. "Did Lucifer do something?"

Chloe twisted as soon as the name left his mouth, and the sobs swelled again.

Well, that was a big yes.

That selfish prick.

"Llluciferrrr," she moaned, folding her arms about her head.

"Did he leave again? Is that it?! He do this to you again?!"

His ex was crying too hard to answer, but it felt like a confirmation. Lucifer had drawn her into his goddamn spell, one more goddamn time, and then left her. Probably off to Vegas, or Hawaii, or Thailand to do a ton of drugs and bang a ton of women, only to come whining back to the precinct just to start the goddamn cycle all over again.

"Screw that guy, Chloe," he muttered, his eyes darting around the room angrily. "He's not worth it. He's not worth this! How many times is this now?"

"M-my fault... all mine..." she moaned, turning from him to lie against the arm of the couch. "If I hadn't..."

"That's bullshit, Chlo!"

He was doing a great job of comforting, he realized, raising his voice like that, but he just couldn't help himself - seeing Chloe in so much pain hurt.

Shaking her head, Chloe lifted her eyes to his.

Dan's mouth fell open.

Devastated. She was  _devastated_.

"Chloe..."

"He was an angel, Dan," she mumbled through her tears. "And I... I hurt him... He's gone because of me..."

His mouth closed sharply as she fell back against the couch away from him, burying her face under her arms.

"Chloe," he sighed, the irritation loud and clear, "he's never deserved your devotion, and you've never been able to see that."

Resting a hand on her back, he stared daggers at the carpet. "I'll be the first to admit that I didn't either. I took you and Trix for granted. I  _was_  selfish. But damn, Lucifer's selfishness is on a whole 'nother level. I mean, it's almost  _God-like_."

Chloe made an awful sound against the stiff fabric of the couch.

Slapping his hands to his thighs, Dan gave a forced breath.

"That's it."

Standing, he moved alongside her and bent to gather her up.

Pushing against his chest, she shook her head, looking at him imploringly. "Dan... don't, I'm not.."

"You're hurting, Chlo. Let me help."

With a heavy sigh she let herself be held, resting her head against his jacket as she squeezed her eyes shut.

A small smile tugged at his mouth - it'd been a bunch of years since he'd carried Chloe like this. Felt good.

Slowly, carefully, he took her upstairs to her room and placed her carefully on the bed.

He went to remove her shoes, expecting a fight, but she let him. The socks came next - same no-nonsense black socks she always wore. When he tried to shift her so he could get her under the blankets, she caught his wrist and shook her head.

"Dan, it's okay." Her voice was a whisper, and her eyes slid from him to nothing in particular too quickly.

With a short breath, he stopped fussing to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Do you want me to stay?" He looked back at her. "I can sleep on the couch."

"No," she whispered, still staring at nothing. Then her gaze rose to his and she managed the barest hint of a smile. "I'll be okay."

"Rrriiight."

She sighed, but said nothing as her eyes grew wet and fell again.

"I'll be okay," she finally said, her voice flat and lacking any kind of conviction at all.

Dan stared at her, his mouth a tight line.

"I'm going to Lux, and I'm going to punch that asshole in the face."

Her face crumpled. "You can't."

"I can. About time someone showed that prick he can't keep using everyone around him. The people closest to him..." His gaze grew soft as he sighed. "You."

"Dan," Chloe mumbled, new tears spilling from her eyes, "you don't understand. He's not  _here_  anymore. He..." Her breath hitched and her mouth twisted awkwardly. "He's in Hell."

Dan stared down at his ex-wife.

"Good."

"But I'm still going to kick his ass."

* * *

_Just a quick note to say that I love Dan as a character. I know a lot of folks really grew to hate him during Season 4, because he was acting out a lot. But that's all it was. He was hurting terribly. And Lucifer got away with being such an absolute dick to him (and also Amenadiel!) so much in the seasons leading up to the last, I didn't mind the tables turning just a little. ;) Anyone who disagrees: let's wrassle! :D I'll post another chapter tomorrow, which will include my favorite character of the entire show. Thanks for reading, and comment if you've got the time and urge to do so. :)_


	5. Violence is my Shield

The ride to Lux took far too long, but the anger stayed, and the conviction that putting a fist through Lucifer's face would make everyone feel better. Particularly Dan.

He parked. He walked, ignoring a couple of prostitutes who tried their best to get his attention along the way.

And his steps grew ever slower the closer he got.

There was no line for the club.

There were no cars dropping off the rich, the famous, and the artificially gorgeous, to the staccato flashes of cameras.

The iron gates were closed, the club foyer dim.

"What the Hell?" Dan murmured, turning in place, scanning for anything that made sense.

It was disorienting. Two in the morning and Lux was closed?

Even when they blew a hole in the wall of the club, it took less than two hours for Lux to open again! The cops were still taking statements when the music started right back up!

"What the  _Hell?!_ " Running his hand through his hair, Dan twisted to stare down the street, to the mouth of the alley that ran alongside the club.

And caught the movement of the camera on the corner, swiveling to focus on him.

"Heh." Walking up to it with a sharp grin, he waved.

"You moping, Lucifer? Packing for another trip? Get your ass down here!"

It occurred to him that he was probably yelling at some poor schmuck stuck behind the cameras, bored out of his brain. Waving at the camera dismissively, he started down the alley to the back door. Another camera was perched above - he flipped whoever was watching the bird, and tried the door.

Of course it was locked. Smirking back at the camera, he pushed the door, testing the give. It'd been a little while since he'd kicked down a door. How would this one go?

"You're an asshole, Lucifer!" he shouted back at the camera. "You've gone too far this time. Chloe's a mess! You HURT HER, you shit!"

Anger sufficiently reignited, he gritted his teeth, and bent his leg up to give it a go.

And stumbled forward as the door opened and Maze stepped out of his way, her arms folded, her mouth an irritated line.

He barely saved himself from falling in a heap at her feet - bouncing a little too perkily back up, he ran his hand through his hair again and gave a little half-wave.

"Hey."

"'Sup."

"Uh..." he started, then scratched his scalp as he looked down the hallway, "where's-"

"Lucifer's not here," she said shortly, her expression unchanged. "And Frank found your gesture hurtful."

Blinking, he looked back at her. "Whu... Frank? My what?"

"Security guy." She flipped Dan off. "This."

"Oh... Uh. Sorry." He leaned out of the door and gave an apologetic smile to the camera. "Sorry!"

Then he got angry again, glaring down the hallway into the darkened bowels of the club.

"Where is he, then? Vegas?"

Maze sighed. Turning back, he caught the dip of her gaze and a hint of sorrow he'd only seen when they'd had that weird talk in the back of his car.

"He's in Hell."

His mouth twisted. "I'd hope so! Chloe's devastated, you know that?! I don't know what he did, but he deserves to feel like shit for it!"

Maze's brow furrowed. She looked at him sideways for a moment, before her eyes widened in comprehension. "Oh! I get it. You think I mean that he's suffering emotionally." She released a heavy breath, and her gaze drifted outside. "No, he's actually  _in_  Hell."

Dan made a noise of exasperation, shaking his head. "Look, just-"

Her gaze snapped back to him. "I mean, I'm sure he's unhappy. Would that make you happy? Knowing he's unhappy? In pain?" With a small smile of interest, she stepped forward, into his space. "You like pain?"

Dan pressed himself up against the wall, then sidestepped back towards the doorway when she pressed closer still, her eyes dancing over his features. "No, I don't... I just-"

"I'm in pain," she said suddenly, and all interest and energy fell from her in that moment, as her gaze dropped to the floor.

Dan stopped.

He watched in disbelief as one lone tear fell from her dark lashes.

"Hey... uh." Shuffling for only a moment, he finally gave a mental 'screw it' and stepped to her, folding his arms around her in a hug.

She stiffened against him, but he didn't let go.

She started to shake.

Dan's eyes widened. This was horrible. Maze never cried. Maze was the indomitable badass who never let anything get to her.

"Maze, I'm... I'm so sorry." A light went off in his head, and he stared at the lock of hair in front of his nose in sudden comprehension. Their last conversation. Her desperate need to talk about...

"Eve?"

She seemed to fold into him then, as if he'd stabbed her with the name, and her tears found a terrible voice.

"God... Maze..." He held her, awkwardly patting a back that felt like roped steel. "What happened?"

She jerked back, her hands grabbing his jacket, and suddenly he was flying, slamming up against the opposite wall. Mouth twisted in anger, wiping crudely at her tears, she stabbed a finger at him as he threw up his hands and backed away.

"You said a grand gesture! You said it couldn't hurt! IT HURT!"

Dan kept his hands up. She'd thrown him like he was a child. Wasn't the first time he'd felt her wrath, but it still shocked him.

"Maze..." he said slowly, carefully, "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Face crumpling, she stumbled back against the wall. Sliding down as the tears returned, she landed, sitting in an awkward pile just inside the doorway.

"I... I'm sorry," she whispered, as the tears fell in waves. "Violence is... my... my shield.  _Hurting_  like this... I don't like it."

Peeling himself from the wall, his heart twisting in sympathy, Dan shuffled over and lowered himself down in front of her. Reaching out carefully, warily, he gently took her hand.

The touch furrowed her brow deeply.

"Nobody does, Maze. And I'm truly sorry it didn't help. It's what I did, but... not everyone's the same." Glancing down briefly, he gave the smallest smile and tried to catch her eye. "Sounds to me like she's the loser here."

Maze glared at him dangerously. "You will  _never_  say that about her again."

Raising his hands, he nodded quickly, his mind filling in the blank of a knife against his throat. "Okay, sorry, I'm sorry. I won't, I promise."

Nodding softly, she laid her head back against the wall, and took a deep breath.

"Eve is gone. Lucifer is gone. Linda and Amenadiel have Charlie now." She tilted her head to stare at him. "Where do I fit?"

Crossing his arms, Dan leaned back, echoing her breath. He looked out the door, to the dim alley beyond, and the sound swelled for a moment - horns, a faint siren, passing chatter. A breeze stirring litter on the street.

He looked back, deeper into Lux. Lucifer's den of sin. A place of delirious energy and life, dulled now and empty. It didn't feel right.

Lifting his hand from his arm, he pointed that way and raised an eyebrow back at her.

Maze smirked. Nodding, rolling her eyes, she brought her knees up and dangled her arms over them. "Yeah, so he left it to me. And yeah, I've really been the one running the place all these years. But..."

Dan's mouth twisted. Lucifer  _left_  Lux to Maze? That was serious. That was gone-for-good stuff right there.

_Good riddance._

"But... what?" he asked, realizing she hadn't said anything else. "You can't tell me you don't enjoy yourself in there."

Shrugging with a small smile, she glanced down the hallway. "I guess I could make some changes. Truly make it my own. Add some..." her eyes flicked to his as her smile grew wicked, "...flavor."

Dan grinned, though it slipped a little, cautiously. "There you go. And you can't beat that sweet penthouse."

Maze's eyes grew sultry, and her gaze traveled down his chest at a languid pace to his crotch. "It is... sweet. Would you like to see how sweet, Dan?" She leaned forward with a hungry grin. "I'm game if you are."

"Oh," he sputtered, jerking back at the motion and shuffling sideways. "Uh, that's... that's nice," he winced at the word as soon as it left his mouth, "but... I don't think..."

Maze laughed, relaxing against the wall again. "Dan. You are fun to tease." Her smile softened. "Thank you for that."

He smiled crookedly. "You're... welcome? I guess?"

"Thank you for making me feel better."

His smile grew earnest. "Sure."

She stood in one smooth motion, and offered a hand to lift him up. He took it and found himself standing the next moment, yet again stunned at her strength.

"So, no Lucifer, huh?" he said, brushing down his pants. "'Cause I was really hoping to punch him in the face."

Maze grinned. "I would have liked to have seen that."

She tilted her head back towards the bar. "Wanna grab a drink?"

He waved the idea away, glancing over her shoulder into the club. "Nah. I've gotta get some shut eye before work tomorrow. Thanks though." He moved to grasp her shoulder for a friendly squeeze and wisely rethought, turning to walk out the door.

"If you change your mind," she called out to him, "I'll be at The Mayan, burning it to the ground."

Dan nodded, shoved his hands in his pockets, and took a few more steps outside.

Then he froze.

"Wait.. what?!"

* * *

_Yay! Maze! My favorite character of the entire show. :D Hope you enjoyed the chapter - let me know what you thought in a comment, if you have the time and inclination ;) And thanks, as always, for reading._


	6. Forgive me

Chloe dreamed.

She was working a case, walking to the scene, wondering why Lucifer hadn't joined her yet, and greatly missing his chatter about the latest self-involved conundrum he was facing.

As she walked into the elevator and the doors slid slowly shut, unease danced across her skin.

The place seemed familiar.

Back-lit marble panels gave a diffuse yellow cast to her hands as she rubbed them together, suddenly very nervous. She instinctively felt for the bulge of her holster and the reassuring presence of her badge, and took a deep steadying breath.

It didn't help.

This was  _really_  familiar - where was she?

In fact... how'd she get here?

It dawned on her then and her eyes grew huge. This was the elevator to Lucifer's penthouse.

"No," she whispered, turning to face the doors as they slowly opened again.

The place was a mess - shattered bottles everywhere, overturned furniture, books scattered from the shelves. The glass doors to the balcony - THE balcony, where he'd stood, where he'd...  _left_  her - were riddled with a radiant web of bullet holes.

And blood.

"No," she moaned, and quickly swallowed the sound - not wanting to draw the attention of the unis flanking the elevator, or the multitude of cops poking through every crevice in the place.

They were  _everywhere_.

Because this was the crime scene.

And the only reason she was here, was because there was a  _body_.

_Oh please no_

A rapid series of flashes caught her eye to her right.

She didn't want to look.

But this was her job. She  _had_  to.

Chloe turned and moved towards the upper room - Lucifer's bedroom - before she'd even truly looked up. She couldn't pull her eyes from the floor, and the scattered luminous feathers spattered in blood.

There. A footprint, bare. In the same blood.

A soft protest left her, as she finally lifted her gaze to the scene.

Ella was poised above the body, her face glued to her camera as she fired off the flash for more shots.

BOOM

The man's body was curled on its side, his legs drawn up and clad in loose black pants, one hand twisted in the sheets.

BOOM

Something white and red was draped over the body, stretched towards the floor. Blood dripped at a languid pace from the very tip.

BOOM

Chloe spoke without sound, her breath taken by the scene.

_Lucifer..._

She couldn't see his face - one pale arm was curled over his head, the fingers still clenched against the silk. One massive wing, bloodied and broken, stretched over his body - every feather taut and yellowed bone jutting from one gaping bullet hole. The other wing was twisted away from his back, the bones shattered thoroughly, as if someone had tried to tear the angelic limb from his body.

Chloe brought her hands to her mouth as she started to shake.

"Yeah, it's a bad one," Ella chirped, coming to stand by her side, camera still in hand. "Victim's in his late 30s, maybe early 40s. Total hotty. Cause of death is blood loss and percussive trauma from multiple gun shot wounds. Also, interestingly," she waggled her hand at the expanse of white, "wings, which is a new one for me."

"It's... Lucifer," Chloe whispered, her gaze fixed on the bloodied fingers of his other hand, curled to the air and still, peeking out from under his stretched wing. "Ella, it's  _Lucifer_. Oh god..."

"Oh!" Ella smacked her forehead. "Of course it is! Sorry." She nodded down at the body and back up at Chloe. "You know he had wings? Cause," she made an explosive noise, gesturing away from her head, "that was a  _big_  surprise. Did not see that coming."

"Ella," Chloe gasped through a strangled sob, "stop, please..."

Her friend frowned and stared at her as she reached towards the bed. Towards the once glorious wing, that had stretched so magnificently behind him when she'd seen him last, now curled in broken agony over his body.

_Lucifer's gone._

_I'm never going to see him again._

"Oh, sorry. Did he mean something to you?"

"Ella!" she snapped back at her friend, horrified. "Of course he did! I  _loved_  him!" Turning back with another sob, she touched Lucifer's broken wing, and a new moan broke from her. The feathers were soft, pliant, and utterly, terribly, still.

"Huh. Really? I only say that, 'cause I had no idea. I don't think anybody did. Did you?"

Mouth twisting in pain, Chloe looked up. Ella was pointing at one of the unis, who was shaking his head. The man then caught the eye of another cop who frowned down at Chloe and shrugged.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Ella said, her normally bright voice growing an edge. "Nobody did, Chloe.  _Nobody_."

"What... what are you trying to say?" Chloe whispered, feeling her friend's words like a blade to her chest. "Why are you-"

Ella leaned into Chloe, her eyes darkening, and stabbed her notebook to punctuate her words. "Did Lucifer know, Chloe? If nobody else had any clue you loved him, did  _he?_ "

Tears blurred her vision as she stared at her friend in shock. "O-Of  _course_  he did... Ella, I... I told him. I..." The tears flowed freely then, as she turned back to Lucifer, and her heart clenched in her chest as she understood what Ella was trying to say.

"But you waited, until the very, very end to say it, didn't you Chloe!" Ella spat. "All of that time together, and you waited 'till the very, very end!"

"Yes," Chloe whispered, and the room about her grew indistinct; the unis, the plain clothed cops, and Ella vanishing from the space as if they'd never been.

And sobbing, Chloe knelt onto the bed, gently grasping and drawing Lucifer's wing back to lower herself at his side.

She took his cold, bloodied hand in her own and pulled his arm down to see his face, as his wing stretched back over them both, drawn by muscles stiffened with death.

"Oh God," she moaned, as she brought his bloodied hand to her cheek and reached to cup the side of his face. The stubble there scratched at her palm as she stroked his cool skin and wept. The dark eyes she'd looked into, marveling at their depth and the realms where they led, were clouded and unseeing.

_Gone._

"I should have... I should have said it before..." she mumbled through her sobs, "If... if I'd said it before... you'd be okay, you'd still be here..." The world swam in her tears, and she closed her eyes in grief. "It's my fault... I did this... oh God..."

_Lucifer, I'm so sorry, I never meant..._

Her cries grew. She brought her arms over her head, burying herself in the dark as her body shook over and over.

_"Chloe."_

His voice. That beautiful timbre, and the way he said her name like the beginning of a song.

With a soft breath, she opened her eyes to a bloom of light that speared through the wall of arms she'd drawn about herself.

_"You have absolutely nothing to apologize for."_

"Lucifer?" she whispered. Lowering her arms, she blinked rapidly against a radiance that obliterated all detail in the space she had been. She couldn't feel the bed anymore, couldn't see anything at all, but the light had an incredible warmth that wrapped about her completely, engulfing her in a feeling of unequaled  _love._

"Lucifer!" she cried, and it came out on the cusp of a laugh, the feeling was so incredible. She felt for him, not even able to see her limbs in the space, not even sure if she was doing what her mind wished - reaching to hold him and bring him close. But there was no sensation, outside of the warmth, the all-encompassing love - no physical sensation or sight to tell her that he was really here.

_"I'm the one who should be sorry. I should have left you alone from the start."_

"Lucifer?" she whispered, as the light began to fade, drawing away from her like the setting sun.

_"Forgive me."_

Then the voice, the light and overwhelming love that had enveloped her... was gone, leaving her in a formless space. The bedroom was gone. Lucifer's dead body,  _gone._

_Everything_  was gone.

"Nnno," Chloe breathed, as her throat closed tightly around new tears, and she grasped frantically for anything she could hold. "Nnnno, please, don't leave me!"

Her fingers found something solid and warm, though she saw nothing before her eyes. So she closed them, and brought the form near, holding it close as she sobbed and cried, calling for him though she knew he would never return.

"MOMMY! WAKE UP! Pllleeeease!"

Chloe's eyes snapped open. Sucking in a sloppy breath, she blinked about herself, lost in the sudden influx of form and place. Sunlight streamed in through the curtains over her dresser, she was lying in her own bed, and Trixie...

She was clutching her daughter in a tight hug, her face buried against her daughter's shoulder.

And Trixie was crying.

"W-what's wrrrrong, mommy?!" her daughter wailed over her shoulder. "Whhhy are you crying so much?!"

"Oh God," Chloe moaned, lifting her hand to stroke Trixie's hair. "Monkey... oh my little monkey, I am so sorry."

She pushed herself up then, firmly, quickly, and pulled her ever growing daughter into her lap to hold. She was meant to be the strong one here,  _dammit_ , and she was  _failing_  at it. "Trix. I'm okay, I'll be okay. Shhhhhh... God, I'm so sorry..." She mumbled the last into her daughter's hair, and a horrible thought struck her. "Did I hurt you?"

"You're NOT OKAY!" her daughter yelled, pulling away with wide eyes, her face a mess of tears. "I couldn't wake you! You were crying all morning and you wouldn't stop!"

Chloe's heart fell, imagining her daughter finding her like this and trying to shake her awake, getting no response.

It almost made her cry again, but she swallowed the feeling. Swallowed all of the feelings, and focused on looking her daughter in the eye. "Oh, Trix... I'm sorry. That must have been awful for you. I didn't mean to scare you, I..."

"What's going on with Lucifer?!" her daughter demanded, sitting back. "You kept saying his name! Is he okay?! Is he hurt?!"

Chloe blinked and stared at Trixie for a moment, caught between a swell of grief and awe at her daughter's ability to figure her out.

Then she shook her head firmly. "No, Trix, Lucifer isn't hurt. He's fine."

Lucifer's face flashed in her mind's eye - the look he'd given her as he'd lowered to place the softest kiss on her lips.

He wasn't fine. He  _was_  hurt. He'd sacrificed everything to save this world and it'd cost him terribly.

The tears rushed her again, and she dipped her head, unable to stop them from falling. "Oh, Trix. I don't mean to keep doing this, I'm so sorry."

She had to tell Trixie that Lucifer was gone. That he was never coming back. The two had always shared a special bond, despite Lucifer's discomfort at her daughter's attention, and it was going to hurt Trixie terribly to find this out.

But she knew she just couldn't do this to her daughter right now.

"Something's happened to Lucifer," her daughter said flatly. The tears were gone, and a strange, steely resolve had taken their place. Something her daughter had gotten from her, and Cloe had gotten from her own dad. It had always made Chloe proud, and a little worried about the bumps along the road that sort of strength was going to take her daughter down.

For her daughter's sake, she tried on an awful approximation of a smile.

"Lucifer is fine," she said, with the brightest lilt she could manage. "Nothing's happened to him. He's gone on a trip, that's all."

"Where."

Chloe squeezed her eyes closed for the briefest moment, before glancing about the room as if there was nothing at all to be concerned about. "Just a business trip. He had to take care of some things."

"Where?" Trixie asked again, her eyes softening a little.

Taking a heavy breath, Chloe looked her daughter in the eyes. Those beautiful brown orbs she had no intention of lying to.

"Somewhere warm."

Her daughter frowned. "But... LA's warm. Why didn't he just stay here?"

"Business, monkey. It was important."

Trixie's frown grew lopsided. "Then why were you crying about him?" Her gaze snapped back, wide with worry. "When's he coming back?"

The smile slipped as she gazed at Trixie fondly.

_My beautiful little detective._

Trixie must have seen the sadness in her eyes - her daughter grabbed at Chloe's hands and held them. "Lucifer's coming back, isn't he, mom?!"

The tears fell, there was no way to stop them, but she kept the smile on her face and realized that actually yes, she could lie into those little eyes this time.

And maybe to herself to.

"Yes, monkey, Lucifer's coming back."


	7. Damn Me

The next few days passed glacially. Trixie had to keep reminding her of what she was supposed to do - breakfast in the morning, getting to the bus, food for the fridge.

She'd realized how useless she was and had called off work on Thursday and Friday, and was now sliding through Saturday and Sunday like a ghost. She'd sit on the couch, draw her legs to her chest, and the outside world would grow muffled and distant, and the next thing she'd know, Trixie was being dropped off from her friend's and it was evening and time to make dinner.

It angered her.

It was pathetic, and she didn't  _do_  pathetic.

But she couldn't seem to stop herself.

She was heartbroken. More so than she'd ever been, with anyone. Ever. Even with Todd, the asshole from the set of  _Hot Tub High School_. The dumbass she'd fallen for completely. Her first love, who had played her so thoroughly she'd almost killed herself when he'd dumped her. Partly because she was a naïve fool at the time, and partly because her father had died only two days before.

Todd couldn't handle all of that 'emotional crap' as he put it, and dived straight into the pants of some other LA chick who'd she'd catch occasionally in beer commercials on TV.

Chloe groaned and dropped her head to her knees.

That's what she needed. To remember  _that._

But...

She turned her head to the side, to stare at Trixie's drawings on the wall, without really seeing them.

It was why she'd always had such a hard time letting men in.

And it was why it took so long to tell Lucifer how she really, really felt.

Her eyes closed as the tears came again, and she didn't bother trying to dam them up. This was going to take time.

A very long time.

"Mommy?"

Lifting her head, she wiped her hand under her eyes quickly and brought out a smile for her daughter.

"Hey, monkey! I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in." She stretched out a hand to draw Trixie into a cuddle. Her daughter just stared at her.

"I've been home for an hour, mommy. We should get something to eat. It's five o'clock."

Chloe's face fell. "Oh, Trix. I'm so..." The word 'sorry' stopped on her tongue. She seemed to be saying it non-stop these days. She needed to stop letting her daughter  _down_ , for God's sake. "Tired, and I lost track of time. What would you like to eat?"

Trixie crossed her brightly-bangled arms as her little eyebrows scrinched in a frown. "You're crying again."

With a heavy sigh, Chloe wiped at the fresh trails on her face and nodded. Then she reached for Trixie again, gesturing for a hug.

It was time. She really couldn't keep the truth from her daughter anymore, and sharing it might help her pick up some of her own broken pieces.

Trixie came, and Chloe shifted so they were both lying together against the arm of the couch.

With her daughter beside her, it was the best place in the world.

"Monkey," she started, and then she had to swallow because the tears were storming her now, threatening to close her voice down. With a small cough, she tried again. "Monkey, I wasn't-"

"Lucifer's not coming back."

Chloe squeezed her eyes closed and rested her cheek on her daughter's head. She couldn't trust herself to speak and shook her head instead.

"You're very smart, monkey," she finally whispered, as the tears spilled from her and she bit her lip against a sob.

"You loved him, didn't you," Trixie said quietly, and gave Chloe's hand a little squeeze.

"Yes, baby I did. I do. Very, very much."

There was no stopping them now, and she sobbed against her child, letting something deeper go. She'd never told anyone else so clearly how she felt about him. It felt good, and so absolutely terrible at the same time - like showing off a pain card she'd be cashing in over and over.

Then she pulled the tears back, took some steadying breaths and tried to focus on Trixie.

"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you that before, Trix. I didn't want to hurt you."

Trixie nodded slowly. "I know."

Her child grew very quiet and still then. It was unsettling. Chloe raised her head to look at her.

Trixie wasn't crying. She was staring irritably at the far wall.

"He's gone back to Hell, hasn't he."

Chloe's jaw fell open.

"W-what?" she gasped, trying to mix a laugh in with the sound, but it came out a strangled mess.

Trixie crossed her arms tightly about her chest and glowered at the same space. "Damn Me."

"What?!" Chloe sputtered, then started coughing because somehow she'd swallowed her own startled breath on the cusp of her mangled laugh. " _What_  did you say?!"

Her daughter jumped up from her lap, and fixed her with a serious ten-year-old look.

"You stay here, mommy, okay?"

"But-what...?" Chloe leaned forward to take her child's hand, but Trixie was already running to the door. "Trix, where are you going?!"

Her daughter turned with a smile.

"I'm going to fix this!"

And she ran out the door.

* * *

_Ladies and gents, we're going to Hell._

_I hope you enjoy the ride :D_

_I'll post more either late today or tomorrow - I'm wrapping up an epilogue at the moment for this story right now and want to focus on that. Let me know what you think in a comment, if you can, and as always - thank you for reading :)_


	8. Three little words

_Phew! The story is finished and I'm cleaning it up for posting. There are a total of 20 chapters coming to just over 31k words._

_You're in Hell now, I'm afraid. What follows might surprise some folks, as I take what Lucifer can do somewhere interesting. Hope you enjoy. My writing tends to bounce between serious and silly, so hopefully everyone's up for that._

_Thanks for reading, and let me know where you think the story is going ;) Thanks to those who've left comments so far - you're awesome. :D_

* * *

Things were not going well in Hell.

Wincing as a Hell-forged blade sliced across his bare shoulder, Lucifer grabbed the owner's hand, thrust it and the blade it was holding through another demon's head, then swung it back, helping the same owner decapitate himself. The head teetered and fell, looking particularly annoyed about the entire event.

Lucifer sighed, before turning to block the blow of another assailant with a pike.

Of course, Hell was well known as a place where things went  _not well_  very frequently.

But things were going, at this time - which had been a very long time now to be honest - particularly  _poorly._

Crunching the skull of the demonic pikeman beneath his feet, he took a moment to pull himself up above the battlefield, his great white wings beating the air with a sound like distant thunder.

An arrow, followed by another, chased him in a graceful arch. He caught and snapped them both before soaring higher still.

The field was massive, and squirming with the damned. A throng of a few thousand, with a thousand lost souls they'd freed for aid, all climbing over each other to kill him.

How irritating.

A spear somehow made it within inches of his bare foot - his beautiful Italian shoes long lost in this fray - and continued in a slow arc down, through a demon who was apparently here just to watch, having no weapons to speak of at all.

"Nice shot!" Lucifer yelled at the one who'd thrown it, giving him an encouraging thumbs up.

The wicked smile fell from his face. Drawing his wings up, he let himself fall back into the fray.

There was a press of blades and bodies, and he took a couple of nicks, lost a few feathers, before sweeping them away.

He sighed again.

It almost felt as if he was losing.

Punching another demon  _through_  its face, he glanced up at the portal into the living world.

Perhaps he'd be doing better if he wasn't always thinking about  _her._

"GAH!" he cried, as one blade struck true, cutting into the meat of his forearm. Twisting it, he snapped the handle from the blade and lashed the remnant, still wedged in his arm, across the attackers throat. The spray of black blood marred the brilliance of his wings as he swept out in another wide arc, throwing the new tide back.

"I am your KING!" he roared then, as he'd roared a few times now.

And, as it had a few times now, the throng paused momentarily. Then, a demon piped up, as had happened the same few times, to say:

"But you don't look like him!"

To which Lucifer sighed, and resigned himself to more bloodshed as they rushed forward again, and his thoughts drifted away once more.

To  _her._

She'd prayed to him a while ago, when he'd had a demon sprawled over his knee, having just broken its back.

Her prayer had been so welcome, and so terrible. He'd actually stopped in the midst of the fight, and flown high above the field to his throne.

She'd been so awfully sad. Dreaming. A horrible dream. She'd made a wreck of him in it too.

Feeling her pain and needing it to stop, he'd done what very few angels ever bothered to do.

He replied.

The pain had stopped for her immediately, as he knew it would. Such was the method of an angelic 'wire'. The light, the love; he'd had the fabric of the universe to work with in its sending, and sent the only message he knew to send.

"Forgive me."

He never should have gone to Earth. Never should have drawn her into his world.

And he never should have made such a mess of the relationship with a such a beautifully simple, gloriously  _human_  woman.

Something had spilled down his cheek then, as he'd sat on that throne, and he'd started briefly, drawing a finger across it to stare. For a moment he'd wondered if he'd somehow killed some stray demon without thinking who'd followed him up there, but that was of course impossible.

It had been clear, and wet.

A tear.

Lucifer sighed, snapping back to the present, then hissed as another blade cut cruelly down his back, narrowly missing his left wing as he swept himself up and out of the way.

They were going for his wings now it seemed. To ground him and finish him off.

He barely deflected another arrow as something dark and heavy claimed his heart.

Perhaps he should let them.

This was hurting too much.

He  _missed_  her.

Why hadn't he said the words back to her right? He'd said some gobbledygook about the prophecy, twisting that back in an approximation of it, but he'd been unable to say it  _right._

Three little words. Why was it so hard?

Because he knew it would have hurt even more.

_Goodbye._

Pathetic. How terribly pathetic. And he didn't  _do_  pathetic.

"AGK!" he screamed, snapped back to the present again as something tore through his right wing with a spray of blood, something still attached to the thrower below. Beating against the air desperately, he sought to free it, but couldn't keep up the lift he needed, and he cried out again as another arrow cruelly pierced his left wing.

He fell as they dragged him down.

Nothing like his first fall of course, but falling into a bunch of enraged demons holding pointy things with murderous intent was never a good idea.

He'd probably survive. But he'd been fighting hard for a very long time.

He was tired.

And... he  _missed_  her.

A few blades found their mark, even as his arms and legs fought for him without his mind wishing it.

"Stand aside! Let me through!" came a voice he hated more than most. Dromos. His First Lieutenant and the leader of this annoying rebellion.

How wearyingly predictable.

"Well, my  _king._  I think you're about to be dethroned."

Lucifer grunted as a booted foot slammed down upon his back, snapping the bones of his wing where they joined his body.

The pain demanded a different sound, but he'd no intention of giving Dromos the pleasure.

He breathed against the ash of the ground, and heard a blade being drawn from a scabbard above.

It seemed this might very well be it, as being killed in his own realm would mean his true end. And while it would mean he wouldn't _hurt_ anymore, it also meant Hell would rise to  _her_  world.

_No._

He could not allow that to be.

Beneath the press of the boot and Dromos' descending sword, Lucifer's eyes began to burn.

If they needed him to look the part, he would.

And they would all pay dearly for it.

There was no hesitation, no puzzling out of form and shape, not like the last time he'd taken on his monstrous shape to save  _her._  Fire wreathed his body with a roar of air consumed, burning away his skin and his broken wings, leaving him in the form of the Fallen One he'd held after his very first heavenly defeat.

The demons staggered away from him as he rose, and spread new wings in no shape that was ever holy.

They fell to their knees. Dromos' sword clattered to the ground.

But Lucifer was not done.

After all, he'd caught a few episodes of Game of Thrones on HBO back on Earth, and now he was feeling like having some  _fun._

Drawing in a deep, rumbling breath, Lucifer pushed the change further. Fire raced up his lengthening, thickening, and swiftly scaled limbs, and licked the wasted ground about his now-clawed feet. Whirling funnels of flame flew into the throng of retreating demons, driven by the beat of his ever-growing wings.

Lucifer's grin widened, wicked teeth jutting sharp against his lips as they stretched into something very reptilian and massive indeed.

When he was done, he released a breath of fire upon his world with a deafening roar.

The demons and damned souls scattered, screaming. He found delight in the sound, but pursued only one. His First Lieutenant.

With a quick puff and one swift snap of his jaws, he ended the demon's life, enjoying a tasty barbecued snack in the process.

And that left him hungry for more. Taking to the air again, his massive wings throwing up clouds of ash and flame, Lucifer sought out his traitors. Assailed, with nowhere to run, they fought back, throwing their blades, hurling their spears. Slashing with every sword they had left.

Some left a mark, but he was beyond thought at that point, sweeping through clumps of bodies, shredding them with his claws, gnashing their bones with his teeth.

Until he stood, his great chest rising and falling with exhausted rumbling breaths, amidst a field of corpses.

There would be more. The Lilim were endless. They would feign obedience, plan in secret, and attack again.

With better weapons next time.

Lucifer closed his great eyes of flame.

This was his existence now. Endless and alone.

Raising his jaws, and drawing in a deep bellows breath, he roared his frustration and rage to the air in hellfire.

"THAT'S SO COOOOL!"

Lucifer's jaw snapped shut against the air.

His reptilian eyes widened to the point where they actually  _hurt._

He had  _NOT_  just heard that voice.

"THAT'S THE COOLEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN!"

Great head swiveling with a speed that almost sent him off balance, Lucifer looked at the impossible source of those words.

And the sight took all of the air from his massive lungs.

" ** _SPAWN?!_** "


	9. Oh my Dad!

_Yes, Lucifer's a dragon at the moment. Yes, Trixie has appeared in Hell to 'fix' things. This chapter is a little silly because of this, but the story grows much more serious from here, as you find out why and how. There are a few more battles to come in Hell yet where Lucifer is his normal (totally hot and kickass) angelic self._

* * *

"LUCIFER!"

The impossible creature ran towards him, leaping over the scattered pieces of the demon horde with perky enthusiasm and the brightest grin upon her face.

Lucifer did what he always did when faced with a child running at him with wild abandon.

He backpedaled, his mouth falling open in horror, his arms raising to fend her off.

But he'd completely forgotten that he was currently a giant dragon with a ridiculously long neck, massive head and four oddly shaped limbs. Not to mention the tail. The wings. It was a form that worked well for demonic slaughter, but did not fit his very human-form-based instincts of retreat.

He fell over.

The ground shook with the thunder of his fall, sending up a spray of mangled demon parts and ash. Horrified and terribly embarrassed, and not understanding anything that was happening at all, Lucifer squirmed and thrashed, desperate to regain his footing and some sort of control over the growing insanity of this moment.

He stood to his four taloned feet, belatedly regaining his dignity, and swept his great head around, searching.

The human child was gone.

Releasing a deep breath, that somehow felt like relief and resignation all at once, Lucifer relaxed.

He had imagined it. Post-battle exhaustion had caused him to imagine something ridiculous. Something that clearly could not be.

No child ever came to Hell. Not one.

They were all sociopaths with no sense of guilt.

Well, save the ones who'd died early feeling guilt over their parents' pain. Taking it on themselves in some utterly ridiculous manner. Deciding they were the source of their parents' hurts.

They came and he pulled them away from the drooling hordes of his demons, then shared a few words they most certainly needed to hear, until their guilt no longer held them in sway to his realm.

And then he punted their little souls up to Heaven, where they belonged.

Lucifer sighed.

Then he froze.

There was something on his  _leg._

With a wild cry that sounded like the screech of a wounded bird, Lucifer jerked back, flicking his scaled limb out to get rid of whatever had clung to it.

And the little human went flying.

" **OH MY DAD!** " he roared, his heart leaping from his massive chest. With a terrified cry, he took some thundering steps, jumped up, and beat his great wings upon the air, sending himself hurtling towards the child, who was starting to fall now with a little scream of her own.

With a taloned hand outstretched, he snatched her up moments from the ground, gathering her to his chest before beating his wings for more lift.

There was only one safe place he could take this little one, this clearly  _impossible_  child.

"WWWweeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEeeeeee!" she screamed, and it took a moment for Lucifer to realize she wasn't crying out in terror.

She was enjoying the trip immensely.

_Insanity._

Questions would have to wait until she was safe though, for he'd realized something else in their first contact.

She wasn't a damned soul. The detective's spawn had somehow come to Hell,  _alive._

He reached his throne, much too massive to sit on it now.

But she wasn't. Gingerly, with the gentlest care he'd ever given anything in his long life, Lucifer lifted the child into his seat. Then he clasped the spire with his claws, giving the wings on his back a rest and angling his sinuous neck until his head was level with her.

"THAT WAS AMAZING AND I WANT TO DO IT AGAIN!" she squealed, bouncing in place, reaching for his great head as if to crawl along the ridge of his nose for another ride.

" **Stop JUMPING on my THRONE, child!** " he roared, jerking from her touch, and the force of his voice almost knocked her from the seat.

Lifting a claw, he straightened her again, and then just stared, with too many questions running through his head to make it through his toothy mouth.

She gave him her most winning smile, then settled in, grasping the stone arm rests and wiggling in place before peering over the edge.

"Wow!" she shrieked. "This is really high!"

" **Yes, Trixie, that's the point.** "

She fluttered a hand in front of her scrunched up face. "Your breath is awful!"

" **I imagine it is** ," he said with a snort. " **I am, after all, a dragon who's just eaten a large number of the unwashed spawn of Hell.** "

"But... Lucifer, you're not a dragon." She tilted her head at him. "I mean, you make a really cool dragon. And I've only ever seen them on TV and on the cover of books. And I guess in a church or two, but we haven't been in a church for a long time. Mostly because mom and dad don't really believe in church anymore. Though, mom's gone a few times since last year, which is good I guess, but I don't know if I need to go-"

He gave a rumbling, irritated breath. It washed over her in a thick wave and she frantically started waving again.

"Pwaaah!"

" **My apologies.** " He shook his massive head, trying to readjust the world to a level of sanity he could understand. " **Child, you must tell me** ** _how_** -"

"You're an angel, Sammy, not a dragon."

Sucking in a breath that almost dragged Trixie from the throne, Lucifer kicked off from the spire and flung himself backwards, his wings working the air frantically, his heart pounding in his chest so hard it ached.

" **Who ARE you!** " He roared across the space that divided them, and the flame burst about his body, igniting his every breath. " **WHAT IS THIS!** "

The little human form cupped her hands to her mouth and yelled something, but he could not hear the words over the sounds of his own hellfire.

The flames flickered and died. He stayed where he was, his heart still drumming against his chest, his mind frantically working through what he had heard, trying to make sense of everything.

Then he shot forward, his heart's drumbeat turning to a song of rage, and stopped before the figure on the throne again, his eyes blazing, his jaws wide.

" **ANSWER ME!** "

Trixie had shrunk back in her seat, her eyebrows soaring, her eyes wide with a very human fear. "I-I did. Didn't you hear me?"

" **I...** "

He could smell the child's fear, and felt suddenly immensely horrible. She'd probably read the name in a human library, for Dad's sake, and here he was, threatening to burn her alive!

The fire faded from his eyes. " **I am sorry. You...** " A word popped into his head, and he didn't want to say it. But perhaps saying it would help ease her fear? " **You** ** _scared_** **me. What did you say?** "

It seemed to work. Her eyes eased to a normal size, and she sat upright again. But she frowned, deeply.

"Trixie, Lucifer. But you know that."

Turning his giant head to avoid breathing on her, Lucifer released a heavy, dragon-sized breath, and felt all of the rage and the energy he had left leech from his body. He grasped the spire again, let his wings sink against his back and rested his chin on the arm of his throne, next to the child's hand.

She reached up and stroked along his nose, and it felt... rather marvelous.

With a soft breath, he started to mumble, " **Trixie, I'm tired. I don't know why or how you are here, but we must get you home. You've always been accepting of who I was, so I think I know why you're not frightened, and how you might know my true, hated, name. But you don't belong in this realm.** "

He closed his eyes and started to pray. To Amenadiel, for a quick angelic lift home for the human child.

But the prayer was yanked from his head as the detective's spawn gave him an affectionate kiss on a scale not too far from his eye.

That same eye snapped open and swiveled to her, the slit of an iris widening.

" **Child, did you just** ** _kiss_** **me?** "

She was wiping furiously at her mouth with her small human hand. "Bleah. You taste terrible too."

Crossing her arms then, she fixed him with a resolute gaze.

"You need to change back now."

He blinked, but didn't raise his head. This still growing zygote was endlessly amusing. His eyelids drooped slyly. " **I do, you say?** "

"Yeah. We're going home now. But I'll never get you through the front door like  _that._ "

" **Wait... what?!** "

And Hell vanished around him.


	10. Looseyblur

Chloe had called  _everyone_  - Trixie's friends, Dan, Maze, the babysitter, Amenadiel and Linda, the local library, and checked her Uber account just in case Trix had pulled another of her  _use-mommy's-Uber-account-to-get-to-Lux_  tricks.

Nothing.

She'd gotten in her car, forgetting her driver's license, and on her first attempt a pair of pants, and had driven in an ever widening circle around her neighborhood, then Trixie's friends' neighborhoods, then to the precinct, then Dan's neighborhood, then the local mall, just in case.

Nada.

She was drinking a lot of wine, and Dan was still searching.

And she was pretty sure she was about to break into a million useless pieces, and would never, ever, come back together again.

Hours had passed. And she was still drinking. And she was starting to wonder if drinking herself to death would get her into Hell.

Where was Trixie? Where was her beautiful child?

And what in God's name had Trixie meant by 'I'm going to fix this?'

How!? How had Trixie known Lucifer was in Hell?! How had she'd made the jump from 'business trip' to Hell? Sure, Trix seemed to believe Lucifer from the very first moment they'd met, but why make that jump?! How could she have  _known?_

It made no sense.

Charlotte's face kept flashing in her mind's eye though. Something about Charlotte was important here, her detective mind, swimming happily in wine, was saying.

Chloe rubbed her fingers across her swollen eyes and shook her head before taking another large gulp of wine.

She couldn't take this.

The room was swimming.

_Lucifler..._

No, that wasn't right.

_Lunislur..._

Oh god, she was drunk.

Voices drifted to her from the walkway outside her door.

"Stop being a wussie, it's just a little further."

"Child, I don't understand  _how_  you did this, or what's going on, but I can't BE HERE."

"Yes, you can."

"No, I can't! I have to go back! The fate of this world depends on it!"

Chloe sucked in a breath that left her head spinning.

_Oh my god..._

"You're such a drama queen, Sammy!"

Chloe jumped to her feet just as the door opened with a bang and Trixie walked in beaming.

...holding the hand of a naked, bleeding, storm-faced Lucifer, his scarred wings folded at his back, following behind.

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!"

"LOOSHIFUR!" Chloe yelled, her heart jumping in her chest. Taking a few running steps in the direction she hoped to go, she staggered sideways instead, falling out of sight onto the stairs.

"Why did mommy fall over?"

"Stay right there!"

Chloe turned onto her back with a low groan in time to catch an angel - her glorious, beautiful...  _mangled?_... angel - leaning over her.

The storm had left his eyes, and they swam with tears as they drifted over her features. "Chloe..."

"Looseyblur," she mumbled happily, her lips spreading in a brilliant smile. Reaching to lace her fingers behind his head, she pulled him down as she leaned upwards to meet him in a kiss.

But he pulled back and drew her up into his arms as the storm returned to his face. "Don't. Please. You are incredibly drunk, and it will only hurt more when I have to go back." He sighed and laid her gently against the couch. "Perhaps you won't remember this at all. That would be for the best."

"Nnno," she moaned, still seeking that contact as he turned from her to stand, dimly aware that a man with wings had just carried her to her couch. "M'not. Will not.  _Will._  Won't. Please... please..."

Then she whispered the word she'd held back for so long. Needing him to hear it again, no matter how drunk she was.

"Lub."

He frowned back at her, his eyes narrowed in complete confusion. " _What?_ "

Trixie's face appeared around his wing, looking just as confused.

"Why is mommy so weird?"

Lucifer turned back to face Trixie and his wings snapped out wide.

Defensively. Protectively. Something Chloe would have taken more notice of, if she hadn't started pointing and giggling at his ass.

"You're so...  _naked_ " The words mushed to laughter as she covered her mouth with her hands. "Ssssssooooo... nayykid..."

The laughter and her smile faded as her eyes traveled upwards.

And the room and her mind seemed to sharpen as she stretched out a hand to a terrible cut across his back.

"Lucifler... you're  _hurt_..."

"Tell me WHO you are NOW!" Lucifer yelled, his voice deafening in the small space. "And what you did with the detective's real spawn!"

_What?!_

With a horrible dread grasping her heart, Chloe looked past Lucifer's legs to Trixie standing just beyond.

"Monkey?" she said softly, rising to stand. "What's... Where did you...?"

And it suddenly hit her.

Her daughter had somehow brought Lucifer back from  _Hell_.

_How?_

"I'm  _Trixie!_ " her daughter yelled back, her legs stiff, her arms fists at her sides. "Why are you yelling at me?!"

Then she burst into tears.

"Oh, monkey, it's okay..." Chloe took a cautious step, testing her balance, and tried to move around the ridiculously massive wing blocking her way to get to her daughter. To give her the hug her baby's tears demanded.

But Lucifer pressed her back and gave her a wide-eyed look that stopped her cold.

Fear.

Lucifer was  _afraid._

"This  _creature_  slipped into Hell and pulled me out of it, Chloe. This is  _not_  your daughter."

Chloe's throat closed tight. Her mind sharpened further still. Slowly she looked from Lucifer's face to the form of her daughter now sitting on the floor, knees drawn to her chest.

"Oh my God..."

Trixie sighed, and wiped at the tears flooding her eyes. "This was not how this was supposed to go."

She laughed then, though the sound stayed sad.

"But I guess that's the point, isn't it."

"Where is the real Beatrice!" Lucifer yelled, a faint flare of red touching his eyes.

"Oh my god," Chloe sobbed, as the world blurred again. Why did everything have to be a nightmare?! Where was her daughter?

The child in front of them stood slowly.

She started to speak.

Chloe blinked with every word, for Trixie's form and voice changed as she spoke, flickering into versions of her daughter that she recognized at age two, age four, then eight, then somehow shooting /forward/ into a teen she hadn't even met yet, and on, until her daughter stood before her a mature woman. Then older still.

"I  _am_  Beatrice, Samael. Chloe Jane Decker  _is_  my mother. I fashioned her as a gift for John and Penelope Decker, a gift that Amenadiel delivered for me, so that I might be born from her and have this life. A long one this time. One that wouldn't end with me nailed to a piece of wood for being a bit preachy."

Chloe was only dimly aware of Lucifer collapsing heavily to his knees. She swallowed, and found her throat bone-dry.

What had she just heard and seen?

_What... just..._

Trixie was ten again, and turned to smile at her. "This is a lot, mommy, I'm sorry. Don't worry."

"Dad," Lucifer breathed, and slumped further, falling against the back of the couch.

Trixie beamed at him. "I know how this conversation's going to go, so I'm going to squeeze this in while I can."

The grin softened to a smile that carried an incredible light.

"I love you, son. Without measure."

Lucifer's head drooped and he released a terrible sigh.

"You manipulative, arrogant, child's-face-wearing  ** _BASTARD._** "

Trixie snapped a finger at Lucifer with a toothy grin. "Here we go."

Lucifer raised his head, and Chloe's heart lurched in her chest.

His eyes were aflame. And not the modest glowing embers she'd seen before, but blazing orbs trailing acrid smoke.

The fire spread as he rose to his feet, engulfing his entire body and his wings in a brilliant burst of flame that roared as it licked at the ceiling, blackening it. The heat was immense - sucking in a burning breath, Chloe staggered away, terrified.

Trixie shook her head. "Nope."

The flames were snuffed instantly, leaving a distinctly non-burning, dark eyed Lucifer glowering in their wake.

Mouth twisting in absolute hate, he stepped forward, his fingers stretching into claws. The flames burst from him again, wilder this time - a deafening maelstrom that Chloe knew, at that moment, would swallow her and the world.

Trixie shook her head again. "Nope."

Lucifer stood extinguished once more.

Shaking now, his whole body taut, Lucifer opened his mouth and  ** _ROARED_** , his mouth stretched wider than any human's, and the terrible sound seemed to echo from everywhere all at once.

The entire building  _shook._

Every window around them exploded.

Chloe screamed.

**STOP**

The flying shards of glass froze in mid-air, hanging suspended for a moment before snapping back into place, the cracks sealing back into unbroken panes.

Chloe looked about herself in a daze, her mind muzzy from drink and shock.

"Samael," Trixie said quietly. "You are  _breaking_  mommy's  _home._ "

Lucifer's breath left him in a weary sob.

And falling to the floor, he curled up against his legs, folding his great wing over himself.

Without caring what her daughter was, what Lucifer used to be, and the great subdued battle she'd just seen play out, Chloe rushed to his side. He was too close to the Lucifer she'd seen in her dream to be okay.

Stretching out a hand, she went to touch his bloodied arm, fearful that his skin might burn.

He jerked away from her touch.

"Leave me be..." he whispered, his voice utterly broken.

Frowning, Trixie lowered herself to the floor. Echoing Lucifer's position at a distance, she curled up on her side to face him.

"Fuck off, Dad," Lucifer mumbled from under his arm.

"I know why you're angry at me, Samael."

Lucifer made a small irritated noise. "You're  _omnipotent_ , You twat. Of course you know."

"Could you stop swearing? I'm also ten."

Lucifer curled in further with a moan. "Dad, I hate you so much."

"No, you don't."

One baleful red eye peeked out from the feathery ball that was Lucifer. "I'm unsure how I could make my feelings on the subject any clearer,  _Dad_ , outside of tearing that child's head off to force you back to your real form."

Chloe's heart turned cold.

"Please... please don't do that," she whispered, stricken.

Lucifer growled against the floor. "Oh look, more manipulation. You've crafted a fine little trap for me here, haven't you, Father. I'm impressed."

Chloe's face fell and she pulled back from Lucifer, her eyes drifting to her daughter's.

"Is... is that true?" A small noise of pain left her. "Is that all that I am?"

She felt like a toy at that moment. Something picked up, mashed against another, and then discarded in boredom.

"Mommy, look at me."

"Don't, Chloe, he's a liar."

Trixie's gaze turned raw. "I am not. Unlike your interpretation of what it means for yourself, I can't lie. Everything I think and say exists. I am literally the  _embodiment_  of  _truth_."

Lucifer blew a loud, irreverent raspberry.

Trixie sighed.

Chloe pointed at her daughter. "You lied about eating the chocolate cake!"

Giving a strange, I-might-be-losing-my-mind-here laugh, she continued, "You even looked me in the eye and said 'No, mommy'!"

Her little daughter looked at her with the exact same expression she had that day.

"That was a big fat, absolutely  _not_  the-embodiment-of-truth LIE!" she laughed, catching Lucifer's wicked smirk.

But it slipped and fell with his gaze as he just closed up again with a heavy breath.

Eyebrows soaring, Chloe looked back at her daughter in pain. "I love him, Trix. Is that not real? Did you give me those feelings?"

Trixie gave her a smile that was beatific and glorious, and at that moment Chloe felt like the center of every universe that had ever been or ever would be.

Lucifer sighed. "Stop that, Dad."

With a roll of her eyes, Trixie gave Chloe another smile, that of her ten-year-old daughter. "Every part of this is real, mommy. And I didn't put you here for  _Lucifer_. I put you here for me. To make  _me_  vulnerable."

Chloe blinked.

The wing at her side slowly retreated, exposing Lucifer's completely stunned expression.

"What?" he whispered.

Beatrice looked down at him with such love that Chloe felt her throat close.

"This is your world, Samael. Do you know that?"

Lucifer's puzzled frown deepened as his brow soared. "What?" he repeated, his voice growing softer still.

Trixie laid down on her belly and propped her head up on her small arms.

"Do you know how many of my worlds suck?"

She didn't wait for another what, and turned over on her back to start drawing in the air. Where her finger passed, scenes began to play out of worlds built in perfect order, with perfect people, living their lives ordered by perfect laws.

Nothing was out of place. Everything was the same even color. Not a single expression lit anyone's features with joy, or sorrow, anger, hate or love.

"Those poor sods," Lucifer mumbled. He had sprawled on his back to watch, his arms behind his head, his wings folded like a blanket beneath him. Exposed and open.

Chloe turned back and frowned at the scenes playing out in front of her.

"That looks like an accountant's ideal universe."

Lucifer tsked. Glancing at him, her heart skipped at the sight of his smirk. "Chloe. Some of the wildest sexual fantasies I've ever fulfilled were accountant's. Don't believe the stereotype."

Chloe laughed. It felt wonderful to hear his beautiful voice again, sounding so much like himself.

Trixie poked her fingers in her ears. "I'm still ten!"

With an irritated scowl, Lucifer turned back on his side, closing up again. "The point, Father. Make it."

"Why is this world so different from the rest, Samael? Why is it so filled with incredible beauty, yet so equally filled with terrible pain? With such glorious heights of love yet such blinding depths of hate?"

Lucifer sighed. "Gosh,  _Dad_ , the Almighty Creator Of Everything  _Ever_ , I  _wonder_."

"It's because of  _you_ , son. This world's joys, and its wounds - all of them - have their source in  _you._ "

Chloe turned to him slowly, the meaning of what had just been said squeezing tight about her heart.

_Oh no._

Lucifer had frozen. He'd grown so still, she flashed back again to the scene in her dream. His battered body on the bed.

Without thinking, she reached for his arm.

But with a sudden rush of white and the sound of beating wings, he was  _gone._


	11. A fancy British angel

Chloe stared at the space where Lucifer had just been, her mind stuttering.

Had he just... flown away?

"Nope," came Trixie's young voice beside her, and Lucifer was suddenly back, lying there as if he'd never left, his eyes growing wide and wet.

With a pained moan, he jerked up and vanished once more in a rush of brilliant wings.

Trixie sighed.

"Nope!"

Lucifer lay on the ground yet again, and he fixed Chloe with such an expression of anguish that she reached for him, horrified by his pain.

But once more he was gone, and her hair had barely settled from the buffeting of his wings before he was back, on the floor, in the exact same position he had been.

"No, son. You can't run from this."

With a heartbreaking sound, Lucifer curled into a tight ball, closing his wings about himself like a shell.

And he started to cry.

"STOP IT!" Chloe roared at her daughter, who'd been watching Lucifer's reaction with a very young pain.

And crying herself, Chloe folded over Lucifer, as if she could somehow protect him from what his Father was doing.

The terrible control God was exerting.

"You're just like he SAID!" she cried, grasping for Lucifer's hand and finding it somehow in the nest of feathers. "You're  _torturing_  him!"

The warm fingers squeezed her own desperately.

"Samael, I know you don't want to hear it, but it's true," Trixie said softly, giving Chloe the saddest smile before looking down at Lucifer. "You came to this place, and you gave the very first of this world a beautiful and terrible gift I'd never intended them to have. The gift stirred them to reach for more than they had, Samael, and in reaching, they became the very best and very worst they could ever possibly be."

Chloe's eyes widened.

"Desire..." she whispered.

Trixie smiled and nodded.

But Lucifer snatched his hand away. He seemed to shrink from her even further then. From everything.

She pressed against him again to stop his retreat, suddenly understanding why he had tried to run, why he hadn't wanted to hear what God was trying to say.

Because how many times had he raged at people for blaming the devil for every wrong in the world? How many times had she seen the pain in his eyes when they did so?

He  _hated_  it. It  _hurt_  him, being blamed for so much.

And here was his Father telling him that it was all true!

It was  _awful._

"Lucifer, it's not your fault," she murmured against the shield of feathers he'd curled about himself.

"It  _is_  his fault, mommy. It's his glorious, beautiful fault." Her daughter stared down at Lucifer gently. "And I love him for it. And it's why I'm here, through you, to be on this world."

Chloe's view filled with white in an instant as Lucifer thrust himself forward, wings snapping out wide. She fell back against the couch, her heart leaping in her chest.

"If you LOVED ME FOR IT," he roared into Trixie's face, his hands gripping the floor so hard the boards buckled, "why did you CAST ME OUT!?"

Trixie made a face.

"Sammy, your breath still stinks."

Making a guttural sound of indescribable rage, Lucifer lashed out, his arm slicing the air where Trixie's head had been.

But she was gone, standing now a few feet away, looking down at him in sorrow.

"I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry. Your pain is so awful and I don't mean to make light. I am still  _Trixie_ , Sammy, I still feel and say things as a ten-year-old girl would."

Sucking in a breath, Chloe pushed herself away from both of them, her hands closing over her mouth in horror. Lucifer had almost done it. If Trixie hadn't moved, Lucifer would have  _hit_  her child.

He could have  _killed_  her.

_He almost..._

Trixie's eyes caught her, wide and worried. "Mommy, forget what you just saw, please."

Chloe's hands fell from her mouth slowly, as the horror that had gripped her so thoroughly faded with no apparently cause.

Why was she back against the couch?

Lucifer growled and shot to his feet. "How  _dare_  you. How  _DARE_  you do that to her! STOP MANIPULATING EVERYTHING!"

Trixie stabbed her fists into her sides and stood to confront him. "I  _AM_  EVERYTHING, SAMAEL, I CAN'T HELP IT!"

"PLEASE!" Chloe cried, her voice breaking. "Please STOP! You're going to hurt each other and I can't take that!"

Lucifer deflated. Taking a slow step to the far wall, he slid down it, landing in an awkward pile of limbs and wings.

"I'm ready to return to Hell, Father," he sighed. "I don't want to be in the world I broke anymore."

Trixie made a sound. One that triggered every impulse Chloe had to gather her daughter up and hold her monkey tight.

But her daughter simply knelt by Lucifer and reached to take his hand, curled at his side.

Lucifer did nothing. He looked utterly defeated.

"My beautiful light bringer," Trixie said, in a voice so warm and gentle, it tugged at Chloe's heart. "Mommy, close your eyes - you might find this too much to look at."

"W-what?"

"Don't be afraid."

The voice  _shifted_  and seemed to come from within Chloe, as her daughter's form shimmered and began to glow in blinding streams of light. It grew in brilliance, and it was like being in her dream again, surrounded by glorious warmth and an endless, engulfing love. Only stronger, and so much more pure.

Then it was too dazzlingly bright. Overwhelmed, Chloe shut her eyes and blissed out completely, sinking to the floor in a stupor of blessed, limitless  _joy._

"You broke Chloe, Dad."

"She will be fine, son," the voice spoke within and without her again. And her whole being  _sang_  with the voice! She was one with it, and she was part of everything, ever, and everything was magic!

"I am  _glorious!_ " Chloe burbled happily before breaking into laughter.

Lucifer sighed. "I love her laugh."

"I do too."

"I can't help but love her laugh though, can I. You made her."

"Are we still on that? I made everyone, Samael, including you. As I said, I did not create Chloe for you. I created her for me."

"Yes, yes, I get it. To be human, as before."

"No. Not like before."

"I love you!" Chloe shouted, before losing herself in a fit of giggles.

"You're tasting the finest drug the universe has to offer, darling," he called out, and she could hear the smile framing the words. "Of course you do."

"No, Lucifer, I love you," Chloe sighed, smiling before laughing again.

"Mmm. Talk to me when you're sober, love."

"As I was saying," God said rather sternly, which only made Chloe laugh harder, "this is not like before."

"Oh, do go on, Father. You won't let me leave. You won't let me stop you. So why don't you continue? I'm  _enthralled._ "

"The love she gives you, that makes you vulnerable, is multiplied tenfold to me. It is the love of a mother for her child, and it makes me completely and utterly  _human_. Unknowing and powerless."

"Unknowing?" Lucifer snorted. "You're a big ball of light painting other worlds in the air, Dad, you're pretty bloody all-knowing and all-powerful right now!"

"I'm a fancy British angel!" Chloe spouted, and laughed tremendously at her own joke. One that would never, ever, get old.

"Oh, I will never let you forget this, Chloe Decker. Never!" Lucifer laughed.

"It's good to hear you laugh, son."

A sour sigh followed.

"I didn't do it for you."

God echoed the sigh, and the light dimmed about Chloe for only a moment, leaving her oddly bereft.

The laughter died in her throat.

"No, please don't go," she sighed.

"Samael. Ordinarily I would be unknowing and powerless. But your leaving hurt Chloe so deeply, and so worried me as Trixie, that it broke the spell. I forgot that I was just a ten-year-old child. I came back to myself enough to come get you."

"Lucifer, please don't leave me," Chloe moaned. "Please... please don't."

Lucifer made a small, pained noise.

"Father, this is torture. Please just  _stop._  I'll go back to Hell. I have to, and I understand that now. But... can you ease this for her? Can you make her... forget about me? Don't you bloody well  _dare_  take her memory from me, but... can you do that for her?"

"Son." God's sigh was deeper this time, and the light began to retreat, like the most beautiful blanket being yanked away. Chloe groped for it, but her seeking hands found nothing. Wrapping them about herself, she started to cry.

"Nice, Dad." There was a soft grunt, and the sound of shuffling. "Chloe, I'm here. The withdrawals are a bitch, I know."

Warm hands found her in the dark, and she was pulled into a new embrace, one that rose and fell with steady, deep breaths. Sighing, feeling content and safe, Chloe pressed against Lucifer's body and listened to the slow rhythm of his heart.

When God spoke again, it was with Trixie's voice. Chloe blinked her eyes open.

Her daughter was leaning over them.

"I came here to be close to you, Samael, in the only form I felt would reach through the wall you've built against me. Sending you back to Hell would make this exercise totally pointless. I knew you were coming to Earth, and I knew you were going to stay. So I arranged to come a couple of years before you did, and I've grown up close to you in a way that makes me happy."

Lucifer shifted beneath Chloe, and she felt his warm hand against her hair. It felt so lovely, in the lingering daze of the bliss she'd just experienced, she began to drift to sleep.

"Makes you happy?" he spat, stirring her again. "You cast me out, Father. You threw me down to Hell. Why would being  _close_  to me make you  _happy?_ "

"Because it's given me a chance to share a very simple, very human  _love_  with you, silly."

Lucifer grew still.

And Chloe's mouth fell open, as every moment Trixie had ever had with Lucifer played through her mind.

Her daughter's immediate trust and love of him from the very beginning at the school...

Every running hug, every delighted cry of his name...

Her eyes grew damp.

The monopoly game and the unicorn on the side of his face...

_Oh my God._

Trixie going to Lux in that ridiculous dress to find him, when Chloe was fighting with her own mom, because seeing him made her  _feel_  better...

And Trixie leaving to go be Lucifer's friend when Chloe didn't think she was the friend Lucifer wanted.

Chloe looked up at her daughter again. Her beautiful child's face was beaming.

"This world is not  _broken,_  Sammy. It is  _thriving._  Messily, yes, but that is, as I have to come to finally learn, the best kind of life." Her smile grew soft. "Samael, my son, my light bringer - YOU have made this world beautiful, and tragic, but oh so gloriously ALIVE, and there is no equal to it in any other world I've ever made, or will ever make again."

Trixie reached out to take his hand again, and Lucifer let her, staring down at it as his thumb curled ever so slightly over her little finger.

"I was wrong to do what I did," Trixie said as firmly as she could with the voice of a ten-year-old. "I was a fool. Stupid. An idiot. A moron. A doofus head."

"Go on," Lucifer purred, looking up with a smirk. "I'm quite enjoying this bit."

"I was... a bad father to you. And since I invented fatherhood, there's really no excuse for that at all."

Lucifer's eyes dipped quickly as the smile vanished from his face.

Trixie sought his eyes again and stared into them.

"I apologize, my most beautiful son, for hurting you as I did. And I don't expect your forgiveness now. I just needed you to hear that from me, here."

Lucifer closed his eyes, and the tears held there slowly fell free.

He released a long, soft breath.

"Thank you, Father."

Then he grunted as Trixie launched herself at them both in a hug, before she released a happy sigh and stood again.

"MICHAEL!" she shouted, in a voice that made them jump and sent the floor shaking beneath their feet.

There was a sudden cacophonous choir of angelic voices and a blazing light that opened in the air before them like a pillar, before the sweeping of a multitude of unseen wings scattered books and papers and every knickknack not stapled down in a wild tornado of clutter.

Trixie snorted. "Stop that silliness, right now."

The choir was cut off instantly, the glow faded, and everything settled back to its proper place.

Chloe gasped.

Before them stood an angel in resplendent golden armor, wielding a sword of brightest silver, with multiple pairs of wings spreading in mighty arcs about his body. Waves of luxurious blonde hair, framed by a halo of pure light, drifted gloriously about his chiseled features as he smiled down upon her, his blue eyes radiant with love.

Chloe forgot to breathe.

Lucifer rolled his eyes with a snort.

Michael scowled.

"All of that silliness."

"But, Father..."

"Now."

The halo vanished, as did the extra wings and the perma-breeze that animated his hair. The armor and sword stayed though, and Michael swung the blade through the air as he fixed Lucifer with a glare that promised much pain.

Trixie sighed. "Michael, you've been picking fights for a very long time."

Michael nodded agreeably. "I do like to hit many things."

"Yes." Trixie gave a toothy, ten-year-old smile. "I have a grand, millennia-spanning battle you might like. You against throngs, no hope of aid?"

Michael perked up immediately. "Really?"

"Go to Hell. You're its new King."

"Wait...What?!"

Michael vanished.

Lucifer grinned wickedly.

"You just told an angel to go to Hell, Dad."

Trixie looked down at him with a wild grin of her own.

"I'm still ten!"

* * *

_Phew, that one was a bear to edit - hope it reads well! Thanks to those who've commented - much appreciated. Someone was surprised that I'd make Trixie God, but I've had the idea pinging around in my head since Season 2, when Trixie first meets Amenadiel, in the episode where Chloe almost dies from poisoning. The entire exchange is really sweet, but it's one moment in particular that made me convinced she was God. Amenadiel, after talking about all of the good people helping out her mom, says that he's trying to be good. And Trixie fixes him with this look, and says "*I* think you're good" with such weight, that it just clicked._

_And speaking of Amenadiel... :D_


	12. I was promised battle!

Amenadiel floated down through the layers of ash and rippling waves of heat, his eyes closed, rubbing his temples in a slow, circular pattern.

He had one Hell of an angelic headache.

His Charlie, his beautiful little ball of joy, his gorgeous little half-angel...

...would not stop crying, screaming, pooping, and puking at all hours of the day, no matter what attention was paid, what songs were sung, what bouncing and rocking and pleading was tried.

He could not remember when he last slept.

They'd shied off night nurses completely after the demon debacle, so there was no help for it but to take turns themselves, and Linda, being human, needed much more sleep than he.

_Babies._

Were babies miniature demons in training?

Amenadiel sighed.

If it wasn't for Charlie's beatific smile, and the look of utter adoration he could fix upon his father, and his tiny little toes and hands and adorable cheeks and...

Amenadiel smiled. He would love his son all the same.

He approached the throne from behind, catching the shoulder of his brother perched there.

"I'm sorry for the delay, Luci, but Charlie would not stop crying and I had to wait until Linda was awake to come."

Rubbing his eyes wearily with a wide yawn, he swung lazily about, ready to face the brother that had so surprised him by retaking the throne of Hell.

"I have to admit I didn't catch all of it," he continued, stretching his neck and rolling his shoulders as his wings beat the air, "something about flying someone back to Heaven?"

"Brother, what are you babbling on about?"

Amenadiel's eyes shot open.

Seated before him, chin tilting imperiously to the ash-laden sky, was his complete snot of a little brother, Michael.

"Where's Lucifer?"

Michael shrugged dismissively then leaned forward, steepling his hands together.

"I am the King of this realm now."

"What?!"

"Bow to me, in proper deference to the King."

"No."

Michael leaned back, tapping his golden booted foot upon the air. Then he waved his hand graciously and gazed upon the far horizon.

"Fine. Address me as your Majesty."

"No."

Michael sighed, and slumped forward, jamming his gloved hand under his pouting chin.

"I hate this job."

Amenadiel crossed his arms.

"Really," he said with a stunning lack of surprise.

"I was promised battle!" Michael shouted with a fling of his arm, to the accompaniment of clanging armor, his voice booming. "Glorious war! ... Do you SEE anyone preparing for such a war?" He waved his hand over the landscape, his mouth twisted in disgust. "Where are the massing hordes? The roaring tide of foes ever stalwart?!"

Amenadiel started rubbing his temples again. "Brother, the volume."

Michael leaned forward, his voice growing shrill. "I was promised a fight, and I've found nothing but cowering Hellspawn and the whining damned!"

Amenadiel lowered until he was face to face with his sibling.

"I see."

And he gave a smile that had no chance of ever reaching his eyes.

"I may have a solution for both of our irritations, brother, if you'll hear me out."

Michael's face lit up. Leaning forward, he twirled his hand through the air in grand accommodation. "Of course! Come! I welcome your thoughts!"

Nodding, his gaze lowered, Amenadiel came closer still.

"So," he began, before swinging his arm, and a very meaty fist, into his brother's perfect face.

* * *

_Tee hee. We are not at the end of Lucifer's time in Hell, though it might seem as if the story is wrapping up. There are a few dramatic moments (and battles) to come. Thanks for reading, and I'll post more tonight. PS: I adore Amenadiel. PSS: Meant to add that I haven't read the comic, so I don't go with Michael being Lucifer's twin. I went with the archetypal ideal of an angel instead._


	13. Very simple things

"TRIXIE!"

Wincing, still cradling Chloe in his arms, Lucifer turned towards the loud cry.

Dan was standing just inside the front door of the apartment, his eyes bulging and frantic between his overlarge ears.

Turning back with an irritated snort, Lucifer was promptly smacked on the head by a small, not quite human, hand.

"Ow..." he mumbled, raising an arm that greatly protested the motion to rub his head.

"Stop picking on daddy, Sammy."

Pouting, Lucifer looked up at Trixie's cross face.

"But it's such low hanging fruit."

Rolling her eyes, she lifted a big smile to her father.

"Hi Dad!"

"Trixie, when did..?" Dan slowed as he neared, his gaze falling to Lucifer and Chloe in shock, before he twisted his head back and threw up a hand. "Whoa! Lucifer, are you NAKED?!"

Holding up the same hand to block a certain view, he looked between Lucifer, Chloe and Trixie, his mouth twisting in rage. "Lucifer why are you NAKED in front of my... " His eyes grew wider still. "God, is that BLOOD?"

Lucifer just watched him, a smile on his face, as Chloe stirred against his chest.

He looked down.

Had she fallen asleep?

Oh, yes, she had. He could feel her fingers shifting slowly with her wakefulness along his side.

_How lovely._

"Dan..?" Chloe murmured, lifting her head.

Then her eyes went wide, and her gaze quickly bounced between Trixie and Dan, Dan and Lucifer, Lucifer's  _nether regions_  and Dan, and finally, Dan and Lucifer's  _wings._

Which he still hadn't pulled in, because, quite frankly, he was too tired and too hurt. They were pinned beneath him anyway - one broken, and one he couldn't feel anymore because it had most certainly fallen asleep.

Back to Dan, however. How long would it take a detective to notice his wings?

Humans had an entertaining way of negotiating reality, truly. Perhaps he should time it.

A rather pointless exercise without a watch.

He frowned.

Had he lost his Rolex in Hell?

Seemed likely, so some demon down there was telling the wrong time in a fashionable way. Perhaps he could think of that as his parting gift to the place?

It hadn't truly sunk in yet, really.

That his Father had freed him from Hell, and placed another as King.

_I never have to go back._

_Ever._

The emotions that understanding stirred were too uncomfortable for company, and he quickly refocused as Dan took another step closer.

The man was frowning, his head cocked slightly.

Clearly he was in the negotiating phase of this encounter.

"It is blood, Daniel, and I did not intend to come to this house naked, I can assure you." He smiled wistfully. "At least, not under these circumstances."

"What are you lying on? What are... those are..." Dan pointed. "Are those?"

Chloe was trying to stretch herself out over his broken wing, in a really poor, yet utterly adorable, attempt to hide one.

"Darling," he murmured, leaning into her with a smile, "that actually hurts."

"Oh my God!" she yelped, pulling herself away entirely.

Her sudden absence made him ache.

"I'm sorry, I'm trying to stop Dan from..."

She gestured wildly at the wings, and then gave up, finally facepalming into her hand.

Lucifer chuckled and looked back up at Dan, whose jaw had fallen substantially.

_Time to help things along._

"Wings, Daniel. You are looking at my wings."

To that, the annoying fellow blinked, looked up at him, stared at the wings a tad longer, then shaking his head, quickly stepped around the couch to gather Trixie's hand.

Reality negotiated rather predictably.

"Trix, come on. We're leaving. I don't know what kind of kinky thing you two are pulling here, but I am NOT letting my daughter be any part of it!" He stabbed a hand at Chloe. "Real glad you got your 'angel' back, babe. Great 'wings' Lucifer, bet you paid a mint for them. You know what? You deserve each other!"

"Thank you, Daniel," Lucifer purred, smiling at Chloe as she rose to go after Dan.

"Dan, wait, you're not seeing this right!"

Lucifer sighed. "They never do."

"Lucifer, that's not helpful!"

"I rarely am."

**STOP**

The world froze, with Dan and Chloe on either side of Trixie, each pulling on one of her hands. The ambient sounds of LA life outside the window had given way to a stuffy silence.

Trixie sighed, pulled herself from her parents' frozen hands, and walked over to sit beside Lucifer.

He'd have offered her a cigarette or joint if he had one, but, sadly...

"I don't like it when they fight," she said in a subdued voice.

Lucifer shrugged. "I didn't like it when you and Mum did either."

He tried to think of something to do with his hands. He settled on playing with the blade still stuck in his forearm, that had somewhat healed during his time in Hell, but hadn't quite finished and was now bleeding again.

"And your fights were much more apocalyptic.  _Ow._ "

There was a little give, so he'd tugged it experimentally. Rivulets of blood spilled over his skin to the floor.

He gave the blade another pull and Trixie slapped his hand away.

"That's gross. Stop that."

With a sigh, and feeling the absence of a smoke keenly, he glanced around the apartment for anything he could roll.

When he looked back, the blade was gone, and his forearm left without any mark at all.

"Oh," he said, looking between his arm and Trixie. A smile felt a little forced, but he went for it anyway. "Thank you, Father."

Trixie was beaming. "I haven't had a chance to do that for ages!"

Lucifer smirked. "What, about two thousand years, give or take a few?" His gaze continued about the apartment, finally lighting on the open bottle of wine on the table beside the couch.

He tsked, reading the label.

Sutter Home?

For  _shame_ , Chloe.

Trixie tilted her head thoughtfully. "Actually, no. Much more recently with the bad guy in the hanger."

Lucifer frowned, returning his attention to her. "You healed a bad guy in a hanger? Is that your new M.O. now? You heal, but only bad guys, in hangers?"

Spacing two fingers just right for a smoke, he pointed helpfully between them and waggled them at her.

"Think you could...?"

She crossed her arms and shook her head. "Those are bad for you, and everyone around you. We learned that in school."

With an irritated breath, he dropped his hand. "Fine. Tell me about the man in the hanger, then."

"Well, it was this bad cop, and he grabbed me from school, and he made me talk to mom on the phone and she was upset, and then-"

Lucifer slowly turned to face her.

"That's when you healed  _me,_ " he said softly.

Trixie nodded and beamed again. "I was right there. I saw him shoot you. I didn't want you to die."

"So I was like," she smacked her little hand on her forehead, "duh! I'm  _God!_ "

Lucifer gave a little startled laugh, and stared at her for a moment.

"You didn't hear my prayer, then?"

She shook her head, with an odd set to her mouth.

He had some trouble reading the expression, but it seemed like good news. After all, he'd made quite the bargain for Chloe's life. One that he wasn't sure he'd be able to live up to.

"Oh, good."

"Ha!" Trixie punched him on the arm. "I knew you'd try to back out on that!" She waved her hands in the air and spoke in as deep a voice she could manage, "'I'll be the son you always wanted me to be. I'll do as you ask'" The words ended in a messy raspberry. "You went right back to hating me and plotting to destroy me with your mother."

"To be fair, father, mother was very pissed, and very persistent. And I..." He sighed and found himself fiddling with another of his wounds, needing something to do. "I... was..."

"Angry," Trixie finished, placing her hand over the stab wound in his side before pulling it back. The skin beneath was once again whole. She giggled delightedly.

"Yes," Lucifer said shortly, and stared at her in exasperation. "You keep fixing my distractions!"

Smiling, Trixie laid her little hand on his arm. "At least you know what they are."

Pulling his arm out of her grasp, and crossing both across his chest, Lucifer stared at the opposite wall.

"I've been seeing a therapist."

"Yes." She nodded, shifting closer. "Who knew long chats between the incredibly immortal and terribly ephemeral could be so helpful?"

"Indeed."

Lucifer frowned down at her as she shuffled closer and rested her head against his arm.

He shrugged, dislodging her. But she simply settled back, her arms snaking insidiously around his waist. Leaning away with another wince, he pushed her arms back to her lap. "What are you  _doing_ , Father?"

"I wanna cuddle," she said with a bright, toothy grin.

He glowered. "I don't."

When Trixie pulled back and crossed her own arms with a storm behind her eyes, he rolled his own.

"Tsk..."

The storm grew.

He sighed.

"Fine."

"Yay!"

"Ugh."

The deed was done then, and he belatedly realized he should have made a deal out of it somehow.

Perhaps it wasn't too late?

"An aged scotch, Father, neat, would be most welcome." He raised his hand in a manner that would support a glass and waited.

But no glass came, and he slowly realized that the child's body attached to his side was shaking.

"Dad?"

Trixie was squeezing him, her eyes closed. Tears were falling over her cheeks and quivering mouth.

"I don't want to let you go," she whispered, the words choked and stuttering.

Lucifer frowned. "You seem to have a rather firm grip, so I doubt there's any threat of that happening."

The crying continued.

Unbearable. Would perhaps some effort on his part make it stop?

He tapped her on the head. "Stop crying."

She swatted his hand away and fixed him with eyes swimming in tears. "Sammy, you are terrible at this!"

He sighed at her.

"Father... children are not... something I handle well. They never have been. I was not made for them. I was made for what they become. Desires for unicorns and fairies and space battles are not mine to fulfill."

Wiping her hands over her cheeks, she sniffed and hugged him again. "Kids aren't always about fantastic things, Sammy. Sometimes they want very simple things. Like hugs, and time, and smiles. They want to know that they're loved, and that everything is okay." She waved a hand in the air. "The other stuff is just for fun."

Lucifer stared down at his Father-turned-Trixie and gave a short forced breath. Then he lifted his arm and held her shoulder.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"You are a part of every child on this world and every other," he said under his breath, "that has ever been and will ever be. A part of every adult of this species and every other sprinkled throughout this reality. You are every form on land and every blazing star above."

"True."

"But right now, apparently, you need a hug."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to be just Trixie again very soon, and you won't remember this."

Lucifer frowned down at her. "What?"

"Everything will be as it should, Sammy, don't worry."

He pulled back from her. "Father, what are you saying?"

"It can't stay like this. You and mommy can't know who I am. It'll ruin everything. It'll be awkward and weird, and I get enough of that at school. Michael won't remember either. He'll know his Father sent him down, but not in this form."

Lucifer turned abruptly to face her, ignoring the lancing pain from his wing. "Father, no. You can't do this. We... we talked, we  _really_  talked, and it was something I needed terribly. You can't-"

Trixie took his hand and shook her head.

He snatched his hand away. "Dad, no! Please  _listen_  to me!"

Smiling a sad little girl's smile, she stood and cupped his head in her hands. "I want you to know that I am so proud of you. I didn't get a chance to say that before. You returned to Hell to save this world and the ones you love. You were utterly  _selfless_  in that moment. Something I never designed you to be."

Lucifer shook his head, grasping her hands to hold them tight.

He couldn't let this happen! Not when so much had been given!

"Father... you can't..." Tears rushed him, unbidden, and he had to swallow them back to speak. "Please, stay here, don't you dare take this from me..."

She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the crown of his head.

There was no stopping this. There was nothing he could do. Closing his eyes, he let the tears fall, and gently let go of her hands.

"You have surpassed my every dream for you, Samael."

"I love you, son."

Then she pulled back with a giggle.

"And I'm so glad you're going to be nice to daddy now!"

His head jerked up. "Wait... what?!"


	14. A second chance?

_I've posted two chapters tonight back to back, so hopefully you've read the one before this. Thanks for commenting! :)_

* * *

The universe  _shifted._

Lucifer blinked.

And three incredible things hit him in the space of a startled breath.

He was not in Hell.

Because he was in the Detective's apartment.

And the Detective's spawn was standing before him with the most shocked and delighted look upon her face.

"LUCIFER!" she squealed, and she spread her arms wide to engulf him.

It was the standard attack mode for this child, but he was much too stunned for his usual evasive maneuvers, and could only sputter, "w-what?!" as he stared about himself in complete shock.

What was he doing here?!

His breath caught.

_Chloe_

She stood on the other side of the room, her arm outstretched towards Dan. She looked harried and angry - her hair scattered about her face in straggly waves.

"Chloe?" he breathed, before even meaning to. The sight pulled the name from him without effort.

She didn't turn.

And... the child hadn't tackled him either?

He caught the almost imperceptibly slow movement of everyone around him then, and the heavily warped music of a car stereo passing outside.

_Amenadiel?_

"There you are!"

Aching for sense and a very stiff drink, Lucifer twisted to look.

His big brother stood within the kitchen, in the usual jacket and jeans, looking as beat up and confused as he himself felt.

What in his Hell was going on?!

Amenadiel crossed the room to his side and knelt beside him, brow arched in concern. "Luci, you're hurt."

Lucifer frowned, seeing the cuts and bruises on Amenadiel's face in more detail. "You're not unscathed yourself, brother? But... what... what's going on?! Why am I here?! I can't be - I have to get back!"

He struggled to stand then as his body fought him on it - the cuts and bruises he'd gained from his battle in Hell protesting loudly. The broken wing hadn't yet healed either, and he gasped with the pain of it as Amenadiel gave him an arm up.

"Luci."

A glance back at the Detective made his heart ache - shaking his head to it, he grasped his brother's shoulders. "How many have come through while I've been here? We've got to stop them, Amenadiel! Help me, and I'll return to the throne that much faster!"

He readied to fly, sucking in a breath to prepare for the pain that would hit him, but Amenadiel stopped him with a warm hand against his chest.

"Brother,  _stop._ "

Lucifer stopped.

He stared at Amenadiel with something akin to panic.

"Brother... I don't  _understand..._ "

None of this made sense! How did he  _GET_  here!?

And why was his face wet?

Frowning, he wiped at his cheek and stared down at his fingers.

Tears?

"You've been given a second chance, Luci," Amenadiel said softly.

Lucifer looked up. His brother was smiling, in that excruciatingly beautiful way that drove him absolutely insane.

A growing anger brought the fire to his eyes, burning away the remnants of his bizarre tears, and he swatted his brother's hand free.

"I NEED ANSWERS, brother! Is this your doing?! Did you bring me here?! Did we fight?!" His burning gaze sought Chloe, still caught in a slow dance of time with Dan. "I thought you were done with this power, Amenadiel - why have you done this?!"

When his brother simply sighed, Lucifer snapped his head back, his eyes flaring in rage.

" **ANSWER ME!** "

"I have no answers, Luci!" his brother shouted back, his brows furrowing in an answering anger. "And here we are, yet again, with you blaming  _me_  for something I didn't do!"

Amenadiel stepped into his face, ignoring the fires burning there, and stabbed a finger at his chest. "I didn't bring you here! I came to find you because you prayed to me in Hell, and when I got there-"

Lucifer staggered back, the fire dying in his eyes. "I  _what?!_ "

"You called me to Hell, Luci," he brother said slowly. "You wanted me to take someone home." Amenadiel turned from his shocked face and took a few steps from him before turning back. "And don't ask me who, brother, you didn't finish."

Blinking, his brow soaring, Lucifer stepped backwards to rest against the back of the couch. His knuckles turned white against the cushion.

"But... brother, I have no recollection of that at  _all..._ "

Looking up at Amenadiel, he scanned his brother's face for any kind of deception or clue as to what this all meant.

And then his brother's words caught up to him.

"Wait, you said that when you got there...? Dad Above, Amenadiel, what's happened in Hell?" Heart thumping against his chest, he turned to stare at the humans in the room about them. The child by his side. The man beyond. And the one who'd claimed his heart, all still caught in Amenadiel's spell.

What terrible doom had he brought on them by being here?

"I found Michael on your throne, Luci."

Lucifer froze, his gaze still locked on Chloe.

His mouth grew suddenly very dry.

And he turned with excruciating slowness.

"..w..what?"

Amenadiel was smiling broadly.

"You're no longer the King of Hell, brother."

Amenadiel grasped his arm gently.

"You're  _free_  of it, Luci."

Lucifer fell back from his brother's hand, almost knocking the Detective's spawn over in his haste. His heart was thundering in his chest, and he staggered back towards the door.

"Luci?"

_No_

Reality had been uprooted. There was no sense to anything anymore, and his brother was trying to make him believe the  _impossible._  Something was being done to him again here, some working of the heavenly host meant to break him and bring him back under control!

_NO_

They were all banding against him again... just as they had done so many millennia ago.

_YES_

The humanity he'd clothed himself with for centuries, out of utter fascination with the species and a desperate need to belong, a need for  _home,_  fell from him like a discarded cloak.

When he spoke, the words cracked through the air like lightning.

_**You are lying to me** _

Amenadiel gasped, his eyes widening. "Brother... you've not spoken in that tongue for eons..."

_**I will not be tricked** _

_**I** **will not bow to His will** _

The walls began to ripple - the shock of his voice reaching through time's slow crawl, and the human clutter about him began a glacial descent.

"Brother! STOP! You misunderstand!"

_**I WILL NOT** _

The strength of his words broke Amenadiel's hold, and chaos claimed the world around him - the child staggering forward to grasp thin air was thrown towards his brother, as Chloe and Dan stumbled into each other and fell back against the wall, and every framed picture and book and useless human trinket crashed to the floor.

Turning from it all, Lucifer flew, his eyes aflame.


	15. The King of Hell

_Hi folks, I won't be posting anything until much later tonight as the next chapter needs some work. Might not get it in until tomorrow actually, but we'll see. Thanks for reading, and leave a comment if you can :D_

* * *

Michael stepped from his new throne and let himself fall, not bothering to extend the wings from his side.

The layers of ash and heat grew thicker as he dropped at speed, and he allowed himself a modest cough as the ground took its sweet time rushing up to meet him.

He landed, his armored boots shattering the ground in a wide crater, and was promptly swallowed by the cloud of ashen debris thrown up by his impact.

When it settled, he straightened.

He brushed the dark dust from his armor, flicking a few of the shattered stones out from the deeper crevices.

He shook his head lazily, dispelling the ash from his wavy blonde hair.

He looked up at the throne, towering on its spire far above, and down at the crater he had just made.

And frowned.

What was the big deal with this falling business?

His useless, selfish brother seemed so very bothered by the whole thing.

Why?

He shrugged.

Samael had always been a sore loser.

Propping his gloved fists on his hips, Michael stared up at the writhing clouds above the throne. Beyond lay the realm of the heavens and the great expanse of the universe. Only he and his kind could pass through it - the rest of the wastrels here had to use the back door.

Michael frowned. He was probably supposed to be watching that.

But boredom had led to this little experiment, and he wanted to see it through.

Perhaps if he fell further? A few systems beyond the portal perhaps, and down through? Would that lead to the same endless whinging his brother was famous for?

Honestly. It was embarrassing.

All of those millennia spent in impotent rage. Fussing about like some...

Michael frowned.

Something caught his eye in the very center of the portal.

Something very bright, that pulsed and flickered.

What was that?

It grew brighter.

And larger.

And soon he could see it for what it was - a massive fireball with a trail of flame, burning so hot the outermost tongues wildly rippling from it had turned blue.

It was headed directly for him, and he could hear it now - the roaring maelstrom devouring everything in its path... and above that, something else.

A voice, tearing through the air between them with the force of an exploding star.

Michael's mouth pulled into a sharp grin.

He set his feet firmly, one back slightly to absorb the blow to come, and snapped his wings out wide.

And he drew his sword with a triumphant cry that buffeted the land before him.

**BROTHER!**

He'd misjudged the distance somewhat though, and apparently the size of the fireball, because it kept growing, and as it grew, the ground about him began to steam.

Then boil.

He lifted himself clear of the growing soup, and set himself in the air, ready once again for the battle to come!

And that's when his armor melted.

The sword too.

As the world about him exploded in fire.

Eyes wide and grin slipping from his face, Michael looked up from the dripping remains of his garb into the heart of a new sun.

_Oh sh-_

Lucifer slammed into him, snapping Michael's wings forward so fast they broke, knocking the air from his body with such force it cracked his ribs like twigs.

Then Lucifer was gone, and the ground met Michael, parting like a black ocean before swallowing him whole.

He sank, still driven by momentum through the thick molten rock, then he slowed, and finally stopped as he met ground still cool.

And there he lay, cocooned in cooling stone.

Pondering.

His brother seemed...

...agitated.

More so than usual.

Aside from their ancient battle at the beginning of all things, that he still recalled with some fondness, Michael wasn't quite sure what he could have done to bring this on.

And while he loved a good fight. Craved it, actually...

Perhaps it would be wise to stay here for a little while?

Give his brother a respite.

Yes. It seemed very wise indeed.

He closed his eyes and prepared to have a little nap. Just long enough to heal perhaps a couple of ribs.

He opened them again.

Because the ground wasn't quite so cool anymore. Nor quite as solid.

_Oh no._

The cocoon of rock started to churn, and boil again, and as he struggled to right himself and not sink any further, it began to dissolve.

Light speared through the darkness as the rock was literally burned away from him.

And hovering above him, wreathed in flame, with the wings of a phoenix and glowing like a star just born, was Lucifer.

Michael squeaked as his big brother sank to him and grabbed him by the throat, fingers pulsing with flame and closing tight.

And he was torn from the ground and dragged swiftly into the air.

As they rose, his big brother's face almost impossible to see in the light, Michael began to feel something he did not understand, and had never before felt.

A rising beat of his heart. A sheen of swiftly evaporating water on his brow.

Was this what being afraid was like?

How fascinating!

No! Scratch that, this was awful! He didn't like this at all!

"B-brother," he struggled to say, through the grip about his throat, using the gentler human words he knew his brother preferred. "Per...perhaps we could... talk-ghk"

The fingers closed further, cutting off his speech.

And Lucifer threw him violently to the ground.

He landed badly, shattering one ankle and a bone in his arm, and fell to his side with a cry. From there he crawled, feeling terribly undignified, but needing any exit he could make for himself at this moment.

The ground grew hot again, and a pair of burning feet lowered softly on the ground before him.

With a cry of desperate rage, Michael swung his good arm out, knocking his brother to the ground.

Michael was on Lucifer then, ignoring the pain of his ribs and arm, the dragging uselessness of his wings and foot. He punched his brother, over and over, and each blow shook the ground beneath his brother's head.

The flames subsided, allowing him to finally see his brother's face.

Lucifer was smiling coldly, blood trickling from his nose, his eyes burning embers.

And he drove his fists into Michael's sides.

Folding with a screech, Michael fell to the ground.

The pain was excruciating. He tried to move, to crawl again, to get away...

Hands of flame closed about this throat, and he was yanked into the air once more.

He struggled, he fought, kicking and punching with everything he had, but it made no difference.

"P-please, brother..." he finally croaked, grasping at Lucifer's burning arm to ease the pressure as they rose through the choking ash. "Why are you.. doing this?"

The spire passed with breathtaking speed to his right, and he knew then where they were going.

Lucifer slowed, and turned to face him, eyes trailing flame as his wings beat the air, and Hell's great seat drifted into view.

And Lucifer sat back upon the throne, holding Michael out before him.

Michael struggled to free himself, his mouth twisted in rage. "That's my throne!" he yelled, clawing at his brother's arm.

Lucifer frowned, and spoke words of the first tongue. The land echoed them back like thunder.

**I do not understand your plan, or what Father hopes to achieve**

**But this is, and has always been, _my_  realm**

**I am the King of Hell**

**And you, little brother, are _most_  unwelcome here**

The hand about his throat tightened.

"But... F-father told me to... go to Hell..." Michael gasped, still struggling against his brother's arm.

His brother froze.

**What?**

"He said... I was its new King... he said there... was... a war... that I would have... an endless stream of foes..." Gasping again, he tried to find footing on the volcanic extrusions that made up the throne. "You were there, Samael... don't you remember?"

The flames died away from Lucifer's skin. His eyes grew as dark as obsidian.

**Where?**

The hand had relaxed enough that Michael held himself up, his healing arm looped awkwardly about Lucifer's.

"The human abode, the one with the child and the woman Amenadiel brought as a blessing?"

As he spoke, Michael watched the change come over his brother with fascination.

Lucifer looked completely lost.

How could he use that to his advantage?

"He summoned me. When I appeared you were holding that woman. He told me I was to be King here, and then he placed me on the throne."

**Placed you?**

"Yes, brother. I didn't fly here, I had no time. I was placed."

**I do not... understand**

**Why do I not... remember?**

An idea came to mind, and Michael tried to give his brother an encouraging smile even as his ribs snapped painfully back into place.

"Brother, there is one way to know the truth."

Lucifer's gaze grew fiery again. The hand tightened about his throat.

**I trust nothing you say**

"You... never have... I know..." Michael gurgled, "but... the Lilim..."

Lucifer stared at him coldly.

Then he slowly nodded.

**Yes**

And with that, Lucifer dropped him.

The fall took him by surprise - he'd not found the purchase he'd needed on the edge of the spire, his arm slipped free, and he fell with a cry.

But half way down, the bones of his wing fused back into place, and he spread them wide, beating them through the air to land on his good ankle with the gentleness of a feather.

Lucifer appeared only moments later, carrying a demon in unsightly armor that he dropped at Michael's feet before lowering slowly to the ground.

The demon averted his eyes and cowered before them. "Your wish, my lords?"

 **Who is the King of Hell, Rakash?**  Lucifer asked.

"Point to your master, Lilim." Michael ordered, speaking the demon's own tongue.

Rakash bent low, his eyes darting between them both.

"Will you kill me if the answer is not one you like?" he growled, working his way to being prostrate.

 **No.**  Lucifer answered.

The demon rose again.

"Then he is our King, my lord."

Michael grinned at his brother as the Hellspawn's crooked finger trembled in the air before him.

Then he stepped forward to snap the creature's neck, and opened his arms again to let the body fall.

 **Why did you do that?**  Lucifer asked, frowning down at the body, his eyes still terribly lost.

Michael shrugged. "He made a threatening gesture."

**A gesture you ordered him to make**

**Yes, brother,**  Michael replied, using the first speech for once, since it suited what he wished to say.  **And since _I_  am the King of Hell now, and you are  _not_ , I can do whatever I wish here.**

He flicked a hand at the corpse.  **The death of a souless is no loss, regardless.**

Lucifer released a heavy breath, but said nothing in return.

When Michael looked over, his brother seemed lesser in some way. In the set of his shoulders, or perhaps the slight hang of his head.

It gave him a quick rush of a hunter's delight.

When Lucifer spoke, it was as softly as one could speak in the angelic tongue.

**You have always been cruel, Michael**

Michael looked at him thoughtfully.

"Perhaps."

He smiled.

"Samael?"

When Lucifer looked up, Michael drove his fist into his brother's chest.

He heard the satisfying snap of a rib or two and watched his brother sail through the air for a pleasing distance, before coming to rest, rather violently, against the wall of the nearest cell.

He expected retaliation, and was ready for it.

But his brother did nothing but sit where he'd fallen, turning his head slightly to stare down one of the corridors leading through the maze of the damned.

"Samael."

Lucifer did not turn.

Michael advanced, his voice growing melodic, "Saaammm-a-elll..."

His brother stood, and, completely ignoring him, began to walk down the corridor.

"Brother," Michael growled, lifting into the ashen air to follow, "we were not done!"

He stopped, confused, his wings beating the air as he scanned the maze below.

Lucifer had disappeared.

No, wait... one of the cell doors was open.

"Brother?" he laughed, landing outside and peering in. "Are you so afraid of me you would damn yourself?"

The punch took him by surprise, the fist thrusting through the dark opening - with a grunt he staggered back, holding a nose that gushed blood.

Two burning embers glowed in the dark through the doorway before Lucifer emerged, carrying the soul of an old woman dressed in skins.

**Vain little brother, I _DEFINE_  damnation**

And with a mighty rush of his wings, he was gone.

Michael watched him go for a moment, his mouth softly open and tasting his own blood, frozen by his inability to understand what had just happened.

What was Samael  _doing?_

When his brother flew by again, Michael rose and followed, landing outside yet another opened door that he wisely stayed clear of.

"Samael, what are you doing?" he called, before his brother emerged again, this time carrying a young man of some military unit from one of the later centuries of Earth's history, whose uniform was soaked in blood. Tears streaked down the man's haunted face.

Lucifer ignored the question and took to the air.

And Michael snatched at his foot, finally realizing what his brother was doing, as his heart clenched in a sudden rage.

"You're FREEING them!?" he roared, trying to pull his brother down again.

Mouth twisting, Lucifer kicked him in the throat, and flew upwards as Michael doubled over gasping.

Recovering quickly, he tore into the air after his brother.

But Lucifer had always been faster, and reaching the whirling portal of light, he lifted the young man's soul through.

**Be free of this place**

**NO!**  Michael roared, racing to recapture the soul.

There was no leaving Hell! The damned were damned for a reason, and for an eternity, and he would not allow this as their King!

Before he could burst through and tear the boy back, a foot caught him hard in the chest, spinning him wildly backwards through the air.

When he righted himself, his brother was gone again, and the boy's soul beyond his reach.

**SAMAEL!**

Enraged, he sped after his brother, catching him in another ascent with yet another damned soul - this time a young woman whose torn skirt was scarlet and whose face was buried in Lucifer's shoulder.

Michael reached to pull her from Lucifer's grasp, but his brother evaded him, ascending at such speed a trail of flames followed.

 **YOU CANNOT DO THIS!**  Michael screamed after him, and continued the chase, catching his brother mere moments after the woman's soul was pushed through to freedom.

And they fought.

And the fight was exactly what he had craved for so long - no fancy fire, no molten rock tricks, and nothing at all like the short, clean, lesson Amenadiel had given him.

It was brutal and close and mean and gloriously long, and he almost forgave his brother for the freed souls in the midst of it, when he had Lucifer by the hair and was dragging his body through the maze he'd returned to in another attempt to free the damned.

He pulled his brother from the maze, limping on a leg just healing from being broken again, and dumped him at the crater he'd made in his first test fall from the spire.

Lucifer was healing as well - his arm no longer shattered, his jaw finding its proper seat. One wing still hung where Michael had tried to tear it off, but the other was fusing ever so slowly.

Panting, Michael fell to his knees beside his brother, who still hadn't moved.

"I think I will keep you, brother," he breathed, dragging a finger through the cut across his brother's chest.

Lucifer gasped and opened his eyes, sloppily reaching for Michael's throat.

Michael slapped his arm away, then drew his brother's head up and slammed it against the ground.

"I think I'll put you in one of the cells you just emptied," he murmured, then laughed. "Pull you out when I'm bored." When his brother didn't respond, he slapped him. "What do you think of that, Samael?"

Lucifer's eyes rolled the long way to meet him, and he said nothing at all.

But then he frowned, looking past Michael's shoulder.

His eyes grew startlingly wide and his mouth fell open.

Michael turned with a frown, looking up.

The eldest was descending to meet them, his massive tawny wings blocking the light from the swirling portal above.

And he was carrying someone. The woman he'd brought to Earth as a blessing from Father.

Michael smiled.

"N-no..."

Lucifer's choked and very human cry was almost lost in the beating of Amenadiel's wings as the elder brother alighted gently, setting the woman down before fixing Michael with a disapproving glare.

"What have you done, Michael?" Amenadiel asked.

"Oh my god..." the woman cried, her voice muffled by the shirt over her mouth against the ash. "Lucifer!"

She ran and dropped to Lucifer's side, reaching for him even as he tried to pull himself up, one wing flopping uselessly against the ground, one immobile, and his arm not yet able to support him.

Michael bowed to the blessed woman. "My lady."

Lucifer's struggles grew more urgent. It was fascinating. His brother looked terrified, and seemed to be trying to stand.

Michael pressed him down with a foot. "Where are you going, brother?"

"MICHAEL, STOP IT!" Amenadiel shouted, grasping him by the shoulder to push him away.

Michael allowed it, stepping aside and releasing his brother as the woman tried to gather Lucifer up, calling out the false name again as her voice broke into a sob.

Lucifer rose with Amenadiel's help, and as the woman hugged him fiercely, he lifted her into his arms, grunting with the effort of it.

And then he tried to fly, his gaze focused on the portal above, his expression one of desperate agony.

"No, brother, I think not."

Michael pulled the woman from Lucifer's grasp and kicked his brother in the side, sending him slamming against the base of the spire.

He grinned. "I insist you stay! Let us fight for an etern-"

The punch from the eldest of them all sent him staggering backwards, and renewed the spill of blood upon his lips.

Smiling, he rose again, meeting the storm in his older brother's eyes. "You too, Amenadiel - let us test our strengths against each other until reality's end!"

Then, wiping the blood from his nose, he sighed.

"Please."

He did not want to be left in the place, all alone.

A hand closed gently over his shoulder, and Amenadiel's voice passed over him in a warm wave.

"You have never changed, little brother. It is time for you to do so. It is time for you to grow up. Stay here. Be a good and just King."

Michael sighed.

And he slowly nodded.

Amenadiel turned to gather their brother up, as the woman stormed towards Michael, her blue eyes full of wrath.

Michael smiled at her warmly. "Do not hurt yourself in an attack on me, blessed one. Do not fool yourself either. Your life is a less than a flicker against his, your pairing so fleeting as to be pointless."

Frowning at his words, she jabbed her hands against her hips.

"Amenadiel told me about you. Your 'super power' is to be  _loved,_ right? No matter what?"

The smile he gave her was beatific with the full force of his gift, and he felt her heart melt in love and adoration, as endless hearts, just as simple, had before. The glare eased about her eyes, and she gave a wistful sigh.

"Yes," he said, his voice melodic. "Now go with my blessing."

The woman, her eyes still soft and pliant, leaned into him. For a moment he wondered if she wished for a hug. His gift wasn't the same as his brother's - it had nothing to do with desire or the lust that often stirred - so the action confused him, and made the smile on his face falter.

"Perfect," she breathed. "Then let me give you my blessing, asshole."

Michael frowned. "Wha-"

And he screeched, as the woman's very human boot slammed into his angelic dick.

He was still crying like a baby in a ball on the ground when they left.


	16. Please

Lucifer found himself drifting somewhere dark and comfortable.

There was little need for thought or worry, and absolutely no pain from his injuries, at all.

Quite pleasant, really.

Until the voices intruded.

"...cifer?"

Why couldn't  _anyone_  get his name right?

"...can't take him to a hospital like this..."

"...pull your wings in, Luci..."

Every word drew him up into somewhere much less dark and comfortable.

A place of pain and confusion, where he wasn't sure who he was anymore, and couldn't make sense of the puzzle of memories in his head.

Where an emotional tide threatened to swallow him up every time he neared the surface.

So he stayed away, allowing himself to sink deeper.

How deep could he go?

It wasn't like falling into Hell at all, so that was reassuring. But it was very quiet, and very still, and he began to wonder - in a distant, rather uninvolved way - if going too far would be a bad idea.

Then the damned voices returned.

"...want to do?"

"...him to Lux to heal. I'll stay here..."

_him to Lux_

_I'll stay here..._

_Chloe?_

No.

No. That wouldn't do at all.

From the deep dark he struggled to rise, back to a body that felt like a prison. Cold, awash in cascading waves of pain with every breath, and hollow where his heart should be.

His dry throat smacked thickly as he tried to say her name.

Nothing much came of it.

But he could feel her near, he just had to reach out...

"Lucifer!"

"There you are brother, good." A hand rested on his shoulder, and the pain almost drove him down again. "Can you pull your wings in?"

The request was ridiculous. He couldn't even  _feel_  his wings.

They were missing the point though, and he was tired of being vague.

Opening his eyes he found a blur that might have been Chloe shaped, and lifted what he could of his arm towards it.

"I'm here, Lucifer, I'm here."

She took the bait, filling his hand with hers, and he grasped it tight.

_Got you._

He managed a smile and closed his eyes again.

"Stay with... me... Chloe Jane... Decker," he whispered.

And then he dived right back down, because frankly, that hadn't been fun at all.

Arguing voices followed for a distance, but he soon left them far behind.

Everything grew very quiet and still once more.

Time passed without thought.

Until the press of a warm body against his own brought him swimming slowly to the surface.

Lucifer opened his eyes with a soft breath.

The world had darkened.

LA had quieted.

And when he turned his head, two blue eyes were watching, framed by lazy waves of not-quite blonde hair.

The mouth beneath, supple and full, lifted in a soft smile.

At the sight, desire lit his entire being. No equal had he ever felt, not in any lust he'd ever had or stirred within another.

Consumed by the fire of his own gift, ignoring the lancing pain of his limbs, the dull throbbing ache of his wings, he leaned into her.

And engulfed her lips with his own.

She accepted him, opening her mouth to let him in, and seeking him just as eagerly.

The kiss melded them as one as her hands curled around his head, slid down his neck, and grasped the supple skin of his shoulders, as he himself reached about her, lacing his fingers through her hair and pulling her body against his so firmly they felt as if they shared the same skin.

She gasped then as his lips traveled along the line of her jaw and down the soft curve of her throat, then shook her head, still leaning into his touch as his hands spread wide beneath her shirt, grasping and traveling over every inch of her back and lower still.

"You're hurt..." she whispered, "we should st-"

He took her words into himself with another hungry kiss, and felt her body's ache as his own as he drew her against himself.

Too long it had been.

Too long for them both.

"Please," he whispered back. " _Please_  let me hold you."

And the softest sob left her then, as she wrapped herself around him completely, her hands finding their way around the feathered limbs that shivered at her touch, her legs twining with his own as he buried his head into her shoulder and kissed there, his hands still exploring the glorious land of her body.

"God..." he murmured against her skin.

Then he opened his eyes and grew very still.

Chloe pulled back and stared at him, her eyes dancing.

"Did you really just say 'God'?" she asked, with the most wicked grin.

And Lucifer laughed.

* * *

_Short and sweet. The rest is totally up to your imagination. ;)_


	17. Fallen rather madly

_Posted two chapters back to back tonight, so be sure to catch the one before this. ;) Thanks for reading, and leave a comment if you can!_

* * *

The toast when it came, was delicious, and Lucifer could not work out why. He took another bite, and smiled, leaning back on the stool against the kitchen counter as his wings gave a quick shimmy of delight.

He held the toast up. "What do you do to this, to make it so?"

Chloe smirked across the counter at him, her shirt loose about her shoulders, her hair a most fascinating arrangement of scattered waves.

"I put butter on it."

Lucifer laughed. "What is wrong with me? It's like I've never had toast before."

Chloe propped her chin on her hand and took another nibble with a warm smile. "I think you're happy. Things always taste better when you're happy."

"Mmmm," he purred, delving for another bite, before smiling back up at her.

"It's more than that, I'm afraid."

Chloe giggled and gave him a concerned stare. "You're afraid? How terrible."

"Yes," he nodded with utmost seriousness. "I fear it's a case of falling rather madly in love."

"With me?!" called a voice behind him, and Trixie emerged at his left side wearing her doctor's robe and mirror. Her stethoscope was firmly pressed against his wing.

Lucier frowned back at her. "No, child," he tsked, gesturing back to the woman he adored. "With your mother!" Shaking his head, he looked back at Chloe. "Your spawn has completely ruined our moment."

Chloe leaned over the counter with a fit of giggles.

Trixie shrugged. "That's okay. Mark's my boyfriend anyway, so it'd never work out. Lift your wing, please."

"Wait..." Chloe's giggles stopped abruptly. "Mark's your  _WHAT?!_ "

Lucifer turned on his seat and stretched the wing obligingly. The guaze she'd tied in a big knot around the limb stayed comfortably in place.

Trixie beamed. "All done!"

He nodded. "Your work is thorough, child." He tested the fit with a few flaps, sending the mail on the counter flying, before folding the wing back. "Now," he murmured, refocusing on her, "this Mark... tell me - does he treat you well?"

"When did you get a  _boyfriend?!_ " Chloe sputtered, slapping her hands to her head. "Oh my God, you're only ten!"

Trixie nodded at Lucifer.

"He gave me a flower, and a turtle. He gets better grades than I do, and he also punched the biggest bully at school. Twice."

"A TURTLE?!" Chloe squeaked behind them. "Did you bring a turtle home and not TELL ME?!"

Lucifer nodded at Trixie thoughtfully.

"This Mark seems like quite the catch. Respect."

He presented his fist and Trixie bumped it with pride.

Chloe ran past them and yanked Trixie's door open. "Is it in your room?!" She disappeared within and shrieked moments later. "HOW LONG HAS THIS TURTLE BEEN IN THIS HOUSE!?"

Trixie turned back to Lucifer.

"I think I might be in trouble."

Lucifer leaned down to her and grinned, flaring his eyes just a little.

"Oh, I know you are."

With a delighted shriek she ran from him, and he allowed the smallest lead before flying from the chair and landing to block the front door before she reached it. The small space was ridiculous for flight, but he managed, only knocking over one lamp and a small waving cat figurine that had been glued back together twice now. Chloe's files on the nearby table had barely settled in a haphazard pile on the floor before Trixie was running again with another giggling cry.

Yet again, he flew, and had to make a quick detour as Chloe leapt from Trixie's room holding a turtle paddling furiously in mid air.

"No flying in the house!" she yelled, yanking the turtle out of harm's way as he flew into the kitchen and cornered Trixie by the sink.

The child was incapacitated by her own giggling by then, so he swept up his toast again with a grin and took another bite in victory.

Chloe pushed past them both and placed the turtle in the sink before splashing it with a little water.

"You were feeding the turtle, right?"

Trixie nodded. "Of course!"

Frowning, Chloe looked back at her. "What were you feeding it?"

"Chocolate cake," Trixie said with a smile. Then she started tapping off her fingers with another list. "Potato chips, cheese, a banana... which he really liked! ...and Twizzlers."

"Quite the fascinating diet," Lucifer murmured helpfully.

Chloe made a small pained sound as she looked down at the turtle, then turned back to her daughter. "Trixie, I think we need to give the turtle back, or take it to a pet store or something. He needs a lot more care than we can manage right now."

"But mom..."

Leaning down, Chloe placed her hands on Trixie's shoulders. "A little life like this is a big responsibility, monkey. He needs an aquarium, and a special lamp so he can get warm enough to move, and he needs to eat what turtles eat."

Trixie frowned. "Not chocolate cake, then, huh?"

When Chloe shook her head, her daughter looked stricken. "Did I hurt him, mom?"

Chloe gave her a reassuring smile. "No, monkey, you didn't."

"Can I keep him if I get an aquarium and the lamp and turtle food?" Trixie asked hopefully. "I have pocket money - I can pay."

"I can also supplement your investment child," Lucifer offered, "if you'd like to give it a proper home. Most land turtles of this size have territories spanning a hundred feet square or so - a small aquarium would be a frustrating, heartbreaking home for such a long-lived, intelligent species."

The expression they both fixed him with made him frown.

Was that shock? Horror?

"Was that the wrong thing to say?"

Trixie's eyes began to water as she looked back at her mother. "I don't want to break my turtle's heart, mom! We have to free it! We have to go to the park and let it be free!"

Lucifer ate the last of his now cold toast and shook his head. "This species isn't native to this area. It would struggle to find a familiar source of food and be unprepared for local predators. Releasing it into the wild - even the domesticated wild of a park - would likely be a death sentence."

Chloe dropped her face to her palm.

Running to the sink with a sob, Trixie scooped up the turtle and ran back to her room, pulling the door shut behind her.

"YOU'LL BE OKAY, KERMIT!" came her muffled cry through the closed door.

Lucifer frowned at Chloe.

"Wasn't Kermit a frog?"

The snorting laugh that spilled from her made him smile, despite his confusion. He basked in her amusement, just happy to watch, until she finally stopped and shook her head at him.

"I didn't mean to make her cry," he said, the smile slipping. "I don't have a... filter... for children."

Chloe smiled fondly at him, and the sight brought a delicious rush of warmth to his chest. Stepping forward, she pressed against his chest, looping her arms loosely around his waist. The touch made his wings shiver, and he watched her, his eyes soft.

"I think that's why she likes you so much," she said warmly. "You don't hide the truth, and you treat her like an adult. She knows she can trust you."

He watched the small movements of her mouth as she spoke, the gentle dimpling along her brow that filled her words with such weight. He smiled.

"She can."

Then he leaned into her and kissed her, enjoying the faintest hint of toast and butter on her lips.

He wished very much for the kiss to deepen and lead to something he always had time for, but she pulled away, heading to the child's room.

"I'm going to see if she's okay."

Nodding and hiding his frustration as best he could, he took a long look around the apartment.

He walked over to the papers he'd scattered and put them back on the table, finding an order that suited his interest, which was by size. The end result looked a little too clean so he put a little twist through the stack and stepped back to admire his work.

Art!

Then he retrieved the lamp - unbroken, and the cat - very much re-broken, and restored them to their proper places to be shifted or fixed by someone with more more skill than he.

Was this where he lived now?

He straightened at the oddly errant thought and took another long look over the apartment as the soft sounds of Chloe and Trixie's conversation drifted through the room.

Perhaps it was not so much where, but  _with who._  He'd been here for almost a week now, and felt in no rush to leave. The wing had been a good enough excuse for the convalescence, but he no longer needed or  _wanted_  excuses anymore.

He simply wanted to be with  _her._  And by proxy, her little imp.

And this would not do. Apartments were transitory. A true home would come next... wouldn't it?

Perhaps the cliff house with the sunset view?

He tried to imagine Chloe strutting around in heels and sunglasses and a barely there bikini, with a white cashmere robe draped about her shoulder while holding a martini, like numerous women he'd entertained on the deck.

...and the kitchen counter. And in the shower. And on the floor, and dresser, and wardrobe - and unadventurously, the bed - of the bedroom.

And he couldn't. Because she was splashing around in the pool in his mind's version instead, surrounded by inflatable unicorns and pandas, dueling Trixie with a pool noodle.

The thought brought an unexpected smile to his face.

But a sigh quickly followed.

They would both age and die while he watched, unable to stop the tide of time.

He'd always known this, even when he was only playing with the idea of a human relationship, and the thought of himself with Chloe was just a delightful, if ridiculous, fantasy.

He was immortal and they were emphemeral, at least... here.

He frowned.

Someone had said that to him recently, hadn't they, almost those very words?

The frown deepened, and his eyes drifted to a spot by the couch, without his meaning them to.

There was that sense again. The sense of something  _missing_  that should be there. He'd been having the feelings ever since he'd come back - sometimes stirred by something so simple as standing in a particular spot in this room.

Something had happened to him here - to Chloe, Trixie, and Dan too. They'd talked about it hesitantly. Awkwardly. Neither wanting to admit that something was missing. Something important that had such great weight.

Michael had said that Father had told him to go to Hell - something that still made Lucifer smirk - and had done so here,  _in this place._

But why didn't he  _remember?_

Amenadiel thought it a gift. Lucifer had not at first, of course. His distrust wasn't so easily shaken.

But it felt very clearly like a gift now.

He just didn't understand why Father had taken away the circumstances of the  _giving._

Unless... his Father was hiding something?

Or... someone?

"Hey," came Chloe's soft voice, with the very welcome warmth of her hand on his arm, and he looked up with a start.

"You were somewhere else, weren't you," she said with a playful depth to her voice that made him smile.

"Mmm, I was." It was his turn to advance this time, and he looped his hand around the small of her back and drew her near. "I was imagining you somewhere else."

"Uh..." Chloe said, stiffening slightly. She looked up at him with puzzled eyes. "You want me elsewhere?"

He grinned, unperturbed. "I want you  _everywhere._ "

She laughed, and a soft flush rose to her cheeks, which only served to drive him mad.

"Come with me," he said, his voice hoarse and needful. Cupping her cheek, he drew her lips to his own and kissed her, and she responded in kind, her eyes growing heavy and wanting. His lips traced the line of her jaw, to her lovely earlobe, and nipping it softly he spoke again, "Come with me, now."

Nodding urgently against him, she draped her arms about his neck and he lifted her up effortlessly, holding her firmly against his body.

"Hold on tight," he breathed, snapping his wings out as wide as he could in the space.

"Whoa!" Chloe's jerked back, her eyes wide, and pressed a hand against his chest. "I thought we were going upstairs?!"

He grinned. "Up, yes. The stairs, no." He lifted her hand to his mouth to brush his lips against her fingers, before drawing her hand around his neck again. "Come?"

The grin that came upon her then was so brightly beautiful, and somehow so young and yearning, that he stopped and lost all track of what he was doing. He merely stared, his mouth open in soft wonder, until her grin slipped to a hesitant smile.

"Are you okay?" she asked, a frown threatening her brow.

"Yes, Chloe...I..." He fumbled, finding himself derailed. But he couldn't let the frown visit this moment, and said the first thing that came from the vision of that smile. "I... I love you."

The words surprised him, and yet again he lost track of what he'd intended for the moment. Dipping his eyes, he stared intently at the kitchen counter, until her hands cupped his face and pulled him back.

"I know," she said, smiling brilliantly again, and he was lost in her once more. "I've always known. I think I was just waiting for you to actually  _say_  it."

His eyes fell again. "I should have said it the day after we met." A faint smile touched his lips, though his eyes did not lift. "And every day after."

When Chloe started laughing he wasn't quite sure what to do. His hands reflexively relaxed, letting her slide gently to the floor.

"Oh no, don't take that the wrong way, please," she said quickly, seeking his gaze. "It's just... if you had said 'I love you' to me the day after we met, and every day after, I would have run screaming the other way."

His brow dipped, and he tried to pull away, but she wouldn't let him. "Was I so terrible then?"

The look in her eyes broke his heart. Quickly, she met his lips for a sweet, reassuring kiss. "No, Lucifer, no. I simply meant that it would have been too much for me then. I... I was a very... guarded... person." Her eyes drifted away with a small sigh and she shook her head. "No, you were never terrible. Not even when you stood over Cain's body and turned to me with that face."

Drawing her hands from his neck, he stepped back.

That could not have been true.

"I..."

Her eyebrows arched. "You don't believe me."

Not trusting his voice, his shook his head. His wings sagged at his sides.

She reached out and took his hand. Her thumb drew little circles around his ring, and despite the awful doubt he was feeling, the touch was lovely.

"You weren't terrible, Lucifer, even though you were standing over the body of a man I thought I loved only days before. You weren't terrible, even though you turned to me with a face from Hell, with eyes that burned like coals."

Oh, he could not stand this. He tried to pull himself away, his wings rising again, but she held on tight and kept his gaze.

"You weren't terrible, Lucifer, because when you turned and looked at me, you spoke in that beautiful voice of yours, and all I heard in that word, in those three syllables, was  _'I love you'_."

She smiled up at him, and she was radiant again. "Every time you say it, that's what I hear."

He took one step backwards, but not to flee. For footing, in the face of this revelation.

"Detective?" he said softly, falteringly, and with eyes as vulnerable as ever they had been.

"There it is again," she said, beaming, and pressed into him for a kiss.

His eyes closed as he kissed her back, and when he opened them again her face filled his vision, their lips not an inch apart.

"So..." he breathed, his voice barely a whisper as a smile tugged at his mouth, "when I call you Chloe, is it a let down?"

Laughing, she kissed him again, and the soft, warm touch of her lips made his mind swim most happily.

"No, silly, you just finish the story."

Grinning, he tasted her beautiful lips again.

"Detective Chloe..."

She laughed, her eyes bright, and draped her arms about his neck, pressing herself against his body.

"I love you too, Lucifer."

A smile as bright as the sun spread on his face. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he lifted her up once more and opened his wings wide.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Oh my  _Devil_ , yes," Chloe purred.

He felt as giddy as a child, and yet he was as old as time.

Love was doing this to him, wasn't it?

It most certainly was.

And this was the point, wasn't it?

To everything?

_Absolutely._

"Oh, wait!" Chloe quickly turned her head towards Trixie's closed door. "Monkey, we'll be right baa-eeeeeek!"

With sure, strong beats of his mighty wings, Lucifer carried the woman he loved out into the sky.

* * *

 

_This isn't the end quite yet. :)_


	18. Mazikeen of the Lilim

Trixie poked her head out of her room.

The turtle's little head, its body carried securely in her hand, followed.

She looked down at him.

"Kermit, I think mom got an angel ride before I did."

Looking back to the open door in the kitchen, she sighed.

"No fair."

Her gaze returned to the turtle.

"I'm forgetting I'm Trixie again, Kermit, and it's all Sammy's fault for making me worry about you."

She gave his head a little kiss, narrowly avoiding being nipped by tiny, hungry turtle jaws.

"Go be happy where your home truly is."

Kermit vanished.

"Bleah." Trixie quickly wiped her mouth with a grimace. "Why do all reptiles taste terrible?"

When the doorbell rang a moment later, she grinned.

"Maze!"

Running to the door, she unlocked and opened it with a flourish.

"Hey, girlfriend!" Maze bent to give her a hug, and straightened with a questioning frown. "How'd you know it was me?"

"I know everything," Trixie answered matter-of-factly, and taking Maze's hand, led her back to the kitchen.

Opening the fridge, she pulled out a can of coconut water green tea and passed it to her friend.

"You just missed Lucifer and mom. And my turtle, Kermit."

Maze took the drink with a grin and waited for Trixie to pour a glass of orange juice before chinking their drinks together. Then she leaned over the counter on her elbows, and took a swig, pointing at Trixie with a thoughtful frown.

"Wasn't Kermit a frog?"

Trixie gave a harried sigh. "Kermit was green and so was my turtle. So my turtle was Kermit and he didn't mind. Also, he's in a national park in Tuninsia now, and nobody knows what his name is there, so I don't think it matters anyway."

Maze put her hands up as her eyes darted away. "Okay, touchy subject, I get it. I'm sorry I didn't get to meet your turtle named Kermit."

"That's okay," Trixie said, and smiled. "I'm glad you're here."

Maze beamed. "Me too."

The phone by her friend's arm buzzed. Glancing down at it, Maze swiped the screen, then tapped out a quick message as she bobbed her head. "Sure."

She grinned at Trixie. "Lucifer asked me to stay with you, you okay with that?"

"Yes!" Trixie squealed, and ran around the counter to tackle Maze in a hug. She looked up at her friend. "Let's watch the Exorcist. It's hilarious."

Maze laughed. "I'll make some pea soup - let's see how far we can spit it."

Trixie giggled and ran over to the couch to bring Netflix up on TV as Maze raided the cupboards and set some soup on the stove.

When her friend joined her on the couch with a big bowl of popcorn, Trixie turned to face her with a soft smile.

Maze nodded at her with a full mouth of popcorn and settled in, gesturing for Trixie to start the movie.

When Trixie didn't, she stopped chewing and turned to look at her, raising her scarred eyebrow.

"What's up?"

Trixie shuffled closer, and reached out to take Maze's hand from the bowl of popcorn.

"Mazikeen of the Lilim, I want to give you something."

Maze grinned. Grabbing some popcorn with her other hand and stuffing it in her face, she turned to face Trixie.

"Is it a bounty? Cause I have been  _so bored_  lately, things have been dry - I don't mind taking a few smaller contracts. A teacher giving you grief? I can break them."

Trixie shook her head. "Nah, my teachers are cool. But maybe you could put something up on the noticeboard at school?"

Maze nodded. "That's a good idea." She tilted her head at Trixie. "What did you want to give me then? Pocket money? You still owe me for that loaner Hell blade you lost in airport security."

"Oh. I forgot. Here." Reaching behind herself, Trixie pulled the blade from a TSA lockup at LAX airport and held it out to Maze. "Sorry. I don't know why they were so worried - I was only going to use it in an emergency."

"Beats me," Maze answered, rolling her eyes. "I've had to pay a  _lot_  of bribes to get my stuff through." She flipped the blade and pocketed it with a smile. "Thanks."

Trixie nodded, and smiled at her best friend fondly.

"So, what was it you wanted to give me?" Maze asked, diving for more popcorn.

Trixie reached out to take her friend's hand again, and gave it a little squeeze.

"A soul," she said, with a smile.

And she did.

Maze eyes grew huge. "A soul?!"

She threw her head back with a laugh.

Trixie nodded. She grabbed some of the popcorn, eating as she spoke, "Yeah. That way, when you die defending my nursing home from that huge army of demon ninjas, you'll have somewhere to go. You can come home with me. Or... you know, go back home to Hell. It'll be up to you."

The expression on her friend's face softened from disbelief to wonder.

Then Maze grinned. "I die battling an army of demon ninjas?"

Trixie nodded, her mouth full of popcorn.

Maze's expression grew feral. "Do I bathe myself in the blood of my enemies before they strike the last blow?"

"Ohhhh yeah," Trixie cackled. "You're amazing! After the fight, when they're all sent back to Hell, they give your name to only the best generations of warriors that follow. You are revered by the Lilim for  _millennia._ "

Maze fixed her with a look that trembled on the edge of tears.

"Really?"

Trixie nodded. "Yeah."

The sigh that left her friend was deep and long, and seemed to loosen something that she'd been holding onto for a very long time.

"Cool."

Then Maze turned back to the TV, and snatched the remote up. "Ready?"

Trixie nodded, curled up against her friend, and smiled.

She'd remember that she was just Trixie soon enough, and things would return to the best normal they could be with a human god, a devilish angel, a miracle mother, and a demon all under one roof.

But for now, it was time to enjoy a movie with her best friend.

And see how far she could spit pea soup.

* * *

_This is the end of the main story of this fic - but there are two epilogue chapters to go! (because why stop at one ending? %)_

_Trixie and Maze's relationship is very special to me - I love how they take each other at face value, no matter what. :D_

_Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think!_


	19. A quarter to never

"I have to say, Lucifer, I'm glad we're doing this again."

Crossing his legs on the very familiar couch and resting his hands atop his knee, Lucifer nodded with a smile.

"As am I, Linda. As am I."

"Now, before we begin, I feel obligated to bring up - on behalf of my remarkably significant other - the hope th-"

Lucifer held up a hand, the index finger raised. "No."

Linda sighed. "Lucifer, you have to speak to your brother at some point."

"Certainly." Turning his arm, he made a show of looking at his watch. "Perhaps at a quarter to never?"

Linda's lips grew thin. "Ridiculous."

She'd meant that to be under her breath, but it had been very much over her breath, and very much loudly.

_Tsk, Linda._

"Is that your professional opinion, Doctor?" Lucifer said with a grin. "My diagnosis, perhaps?"

She laughed.

"It has been for some time now."

She stilled the laughter to a smile with weight. "But seriously. He's sorry. He feels that if he hadn't done it, Michael may have trapped you in Hell for good."

Lucifer's smile fell and his gaze slid away. "It doesn't matter what my traitorously misguided brother feels. Only what he did."

Linda sighed. "And while I know  _what_  that is, I'm going to ask  _anyway_ , because it's healthy for you to talk about it - what did he do?"

Lucifer's gaze came back blazing.

"He took Chloe to Hell. A place she should NEVER have seen, smelled, touched, or breathed into her lungs, or set a single foot upon."

Taking a deep breath, he released it on the cusp of a growl. "She was never meant to experience the place in any form. She should never have been sullied by even the smallest glance."

"Sullied?" Linda said, leaning forward. "That's a strong word."

The flames had not dwindled from Lucifer's eyes, but he did not meet hers. "It is appropriate."

She tapped her pencil thoughtfully against her nail, and judged her next question.

Was it too strong?

Well, she'd never shied from asking hard questions before, even to the Devil. Why stop now?

"Do  _you_  feel sullied, Lucifer?"

The gaze of hellfire and wrath snapped to her, and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise.

_Whoa, Nelly!_ _Too strong!_

"Doctor." Lucifer said in a terribly even tone. " _Careful._ "

Linda raised her hand as a peace offering, and Lucifer fluffed on the couch, adjusting his jacket and collar and shifting as his gaze lost its heat.

"I apologize," he said. "I am overtly agitated and displacing my anger."

And inside her own head Linda threw up some fireworks, and danced the samba, and kissed some godly hunk she'd made up on the spot so hard he passed out, because...

...the (former) King of Hell - her most challenging patient - had  _realized_  that he'd overreacted and  _why_ , and had  _apologized_  for doing so.

All of this passed behind a face held in beautiful neutrality.

"Lucifer," she said, in a practiced tone she'd used often with him. One that was firm, yet conciliatory. Warm, yet professional. "Chloe has accepted you. All of you."

When Lucifer's gaze turned to her and that grin appeared, she wished she'd chosen different words. Sometimes it was so  _hard_  with Lucifer because... oh for heaven's sake she was doing it again...

"Oh, she's accepted  _aalll_  of me, indeed, Doctor," he purred, the grin growing ever more wicked. "Many, many, times now. In many different pla-"

"Stop." Her hand flew up again. "You've had sex, Lucifer, I understand. That's fantastic."

He leaned forward, his eyes bright with a different kind of light. "I think to call it 'sex' is extremely unimaginative, Linda. What we have done together transcends 'sex' - an act I have shared with hundreds of thousands of partners multiple times-"

"Oh my God," Linda muttered, dropping her head to her hand. "Stop."

_Why am I telling my patient to shut up?! Bad Linda!_

Lucifer stopped, and sat back slowly, looking a little put out.

When he spoke again, all hint of aggrandizement was gone.

"We've made  _love_ , Doctor."

And he smiled, simply beautifully.

"Something I have done with no partner, ever, before."

Linda looked up slowly, and her mouth fell open in awe.

"Lucifer," she said, almost breathless with the revelation. "That's absolutely  _wonderful._ "

His smile grew more radiant and open than she had ever seen, and she found herself basking in it, feeling it almost as a warmth against her skin, as the room was filled with the light of a passing car.

Wait...

Linda blinked.

No, that was an  _actual_  light, and the source... was sitting right in front of her.

"Lucifer, are you...  _glowing?_ " she gaped, staring at his skin. It was translucent and brilliant, yet somehow still his own - framing dark sensitive eyes, the finely trimmed beard and that gorgeous black hair.

The smile faltered on Lucifer's face. He stared down at himself, and the light abruptly departed.

Linda made a small pained sound at its departure, and quickly tried to compose herself.

"Tsk. I do apologize."

Blinking, she looked back at him. He was smoothing his jacket down and playing with his cufflinks.

"What?" she asked, a part of her longing to see the light that was still dancing within her vision - the lingering afterimage of Lucifer.

"It's never my intention to do that and the timing is always awkward. Embarrassing, really. If I let it go on too long people forget how to speak."

He returned his hand to his knee, before leaning forward to grab a quick drink of water.

Sitting back, he fixed her with a cooler gaze. "To answer your question, yes. I feel sullied. Though... not as much as I once did." He looked towards the window. "Hell is also an inexorable part of who I  _am_ , however, so-"

"Was," Linda interjected, recovering enough to circle back to a point poorly handled in a previous session.

" _Is_ , Doctor," Lucifer said shortly, looking back at her again. "I am still the Devil, no matter that my brother sits on my throne."

Linda released a hard breath. "Isn't it  _his_  throne now, though? Didn't you say that the Lilim recognized him as King?"

The fires returned to Lucifer's eyes.

"I may be an angel, Doctor, and one very newly liberated from Hell, but I am also a creature of terrible pride. It does not sit  ** _well_** ," he growled the word, "that my throne was stripped from me - not inherited, or gifted by me, or claimed through accession - even if the realm itself is one I'm happy to be free of."

"I do understand that, Lucifer."

"I don't think you  _do_ , my dear friend," Lucifer said quietly, his gaze unwavering, unblinking as the fires swirled still.

"Hell is a part of my  _being_. The name and sin of every single soul damned there is known to me. Every single one. Even the souls whose 'sins' shouldn't have brought them to Hell, and yet did, due to the weight of their own guilt. For example - Anyana. She killed a child while smothering his cries during a tribal raid on her village. It was not a sin. It was an accident. But that did not stop the elder from damning herself with guilt when she died."

Linda managed a single soft, "Oh."

"Martin, an artist drafted to war, killed an enemy soldier with a knife when his gun jammed. There was no sin to it - he had no choice but to defend himself, and messily. Neither was his drunken death a sin when the war ended pointlessly and he was greeted with spite on his return. His guilt brought him to me, and many more just like him, regardless."

With no words, Linda merely held Lucifer's burning gaze as hers grew damp.

"Susan, and too many more to count just like her. Barely a woman, left with no choice but to remove something forced on her that she did not want and could in no way support. Not a sin. Damned to Hell by guilt, despite this."

Lucifer sighed, and his eyes grew dark. "When souls like these arrived under my rule, I did what I could to lessen their torment. I couldn't remove it entirely because they themselves dictated that they suffer. But I... edited... their loops. I took the best memories of their lives and padded the loops with them, to help offset the inevitable replay of their worst. It was all I felt I could do at the time."

"That's...  _incredible_ , Lucifer," Linda whispered. "I had no idea..."

"Few do."

A thought struck. "Wait, the three you just mentioned - those were the three you said you released last time, weren't they?"

He nodded. "I'd have freed thousands more if Michael hadn't stopped me." His gaze fell as his voice grew hollow. "He will make a cruelly efficient King of Hell, Linda. There will be no padding of Hell loops, no return of the errant child whose only crime was to be hurt. There will be no leniency of any kind. The damned will suffer, and they will suffer  _terribly_ , no matter if they deserve it or not."

The look he gave her was more fragile than any she had ever seen.

"People think I don't care. I have no time to change their minds. I care. I just don't  _want_  to, because I've no desire for the eternal pain of the damned."

"But I've no desire for more needless suffering, either. I am angry the throne was taken from me in this way."

Linda released a long, low breath. "I think I  _do_  understand now, Lucifer. Thank you."

Lucifer nodded, his gaze drawn towards the window again.

"I'd like to get back to Chloe, now," she continued.

He smiled. "I'd like to too, Doctor. I left her delirious in my favorite penthouse suite in Geneva, and I'd like to get back before she wakes up."

Linda blinked. "Geneva... New York?"

"Switzerland, Doctor," he answered, as if talking to a child. "At the President Wilson, of course."

Her jaw snapped shut, and she threw up a hand as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Of course!"

She knew she should be returning to the topic at hand, but she couldn't help herself, and she gestured to him. "Did you, you know..." she flapped her hands at her sides, "to get here?"

He stared at her. "I'm sorry?"

"Did you fly here! That's what I'm asking!" She said, both exasperated and embarrassed. "You know, with...?!" She mimicked the motion more enthusiastically.

Lucifer nodded slowly. "Yes I flew, Doctor, on a wonderful invention called the jet. Less of this," he flapped his hands unenthusiastically, "more of this," he finished, bringing up a glass of water as he gestured to himself sitting. "I'm fond of this suit. I've no desire for it to be torn by hail or shat on by migrating birds."

"Right. Nevermind."

_Pull yourself together, Linda!_

Clearing her throat, and smoothing down her skirt, she returned to the point she hoped would sink in this time.

"You've just said that Hell is a part of you. I'd like to go back to that for a moment, because I think it's important."

When he gestured with the glass to continue, she did.

"You're mad at Amenadiel for taking Chloe to Hell. I get that, but let's look at it a different way. When he took her to Hell, she saw a  _part of you_  more fully, and came to understand it more completely, than she ever could have, if she hadn't been. Her head was filled with ridiculous scenes from the Bible, Paradise Lost, Dante's Inferno, and numerous crappy paintings throughout history, which had absolutely nothing to do with reality. Your brother showed Chloe the  _truth_  about Hell, Lucifer, and in doing so, showed her a truer version of  _you_  that she'd been missing."

Linda smiled. "She wasn't sullied by the trip, Lucifer. She was  _illuminated._ "

She sat back, giving herself a little nod, satisfied with her statement.

Though it had gone on a little.

_Too much?_

Lucifer was just sitting there staring at her, his expression frozen. Worried, she asked, "Does that make sense?"

He frowned for a long moment, then raised his hands together and closed his eyes.

"Are you... are... you're praying, aren't you. I should stop talking."

There was a rush of beating wings, and a light knock on the door.

"Come in, brother," Lucifer said softly.

Amenadiel poked his head in, giving Linda a bright smile before looking more solemnly at his brother.

"So we're good?"

Lucifer pointed to the seat beside him without saying a word.

Cautiously, Amenadiel approached, and sat down on the edge, raising an eyebrow at Linda.

She shrugged back.

Then promptly squealed when Lucifer leaned over to wrap his brother in a tight hug.

_Phone! Where's my phone?!_

She groped on the desk behind her, found it and brought it back.

And the brothers were sitting apart on the couch again, Lucifer smoothing his jacket, Amenadiel grinning from ear to ear.

"Aww," she murmured, disappointed. Gesturing to them both, she brought the camera up on her phone. "Do it again."

Amenadiel was game, leaning in, but Lucifer did not budge.

"No."

"Come on, Uncle Luci," she cried with a grin, "it's for Charlie!"

He fixed her with a pained glare. "Never call me that again."

"Brother, now that we're talking again, I-"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, brother."

Amenadiel, continued, ignoring him, "Now that we're talking again, I have some concerns about our little brother."

Lucifer rolled his eyes. "I've had eternal concerns about Michael, Amenadiel. Why are you ruining this moment?"

Amenadiel grinned at him. "We had a moment?"

"Shut up."

Linda rolled her eyes. "Boys."

"Michael is acting strangely," Amenadiel continued. He turned to her. "Linda, you might want to talk to him."

She snorted and waved her hand in the air as if to bat the idea away. "I very much might not. I think I've reached my intake limit on celestial patients, thank you."

"Why, Amenadiel?" Lucifer asked, his brow furrowing. "I mean, outside of the fact that he's the most beloved sociopath in all of creation, what has you so worried?"

"You remember what I said Chloe did to Michael when I pulled you from Hell?"

Lucifer grinned. "Oh yes."

"Well... it seems to have had a lasting deleterious effect on our little brother."

"Excellent," Lucifer purred. "Share immediately."

Linda leaned in. "Yes, share immediately?"

"When I flew down to check on him, to make sure he was monitoring the back gate, and had taken on all of the responsibilities of the throne..."

"Yes?" Lucifer smiled carnivorously.

"I found him facing a line of demons stretching off to the far horizon." Amenadiel shook his head, apparently astounded by the recollection. "When I flew to him and asked him what he was doing, he merely held up a hand to silence me and ordered the next demon in line forward..."

"Oh dear," Linda murmured, imagining the fate of the particular demon involved.

Lucifer shook his head at her and beckoned Amenadiel to continue.

"And he ordered that demon most firmly, to aim with its greatest strength, a kick at his genitals."

Lucifer gasped, his eyes wide. Then he threw his head back, and  _roared_  with laughter.

Linda's lips curled in a monumental effort at control, as Amenadiel raised an eyebrow at his brother, then turned to her with the same look of concern.

"MMheemmm," she giggled, despite herself, and brought up a hand quickly to hide it.

Frowning at them both, Amenadiel continued, "Our little brother bent over with a look of discomfort, then straightened. And when he looked back up at me with something akin to despair, he yelled 'How did she  _do_  that to me?!'"

Unable to stop the tide any more, Linda laughed, and kept laughing, joining Lucifer, who had fallen against the couch, his eyes filling with tears as he howled.

Amenadiel looked confused. "And... I simply shrugged and flew away. I didn't know how to tell him that his own power had made it possible... I mean, it's a terrible thing to do to an angel - we feel it worse than any human. It's practically a sin. Dad would have put it on one of those tablets but he ran out of space."

"At least, that's what he told me."

"Lucifer, you're turning red. And I mean, really red. That's not your devil face, is it..."

"Linda, breathe."

Amenadiel sighed.

* * *

_One last chapter to go, though I feel a little moment stirring between Chloe and Lucifer that I'd love to capture and bookend this whole thing with. We'll see how that goes._

_I knew I was going to see Linda and Lucifer together again, so was really thrilled when that panned out. Also, knew exactly what impact Chloe's angelic dick shot was going to have on *poor* Michael. XD_

_Hope you've enjoyed reading! Leave a comment and let me know what you think._

 


	20. Good to be back

_Welp, this is the end of this fic, and I can already feel another stirring._ _In this, we see the repercussions of something Trixie said a few chapters back before everything was 'reset'. ;)_ _Thank you to everyone who left comments along the way!_ _I'm hoping I might see more now that it's done? Hint hint? Poke. Pokepokepokepokepoke... XD_ _This has been my little love letter to everyone involved in the show, for everything they've done up to now. Just incredible work - thank you. Doubt they'll ever see this though. :) Enjoy!_

* * *

When the elevator doors opened at the precinct, the cop standing outside stepped forward to enter.

And promptly stopped short.

Clearing his throat, he shuffled awkwardly, desperate to get in the elevator and back to his car, his home, his wife.

But he couldn't, because of the couple inside, wrapped around each other in a way that made him blush.

And he  _never_  blushed.

After a moment, the doors slowly closed.

But the lift didn't go anywhere.

Frowning, he stabbed the button again.

The doors reopened, and the couple inside finally burst apart when the woman opened her eyes and saw him.

There was a flurry of frantic straightening on her part, and a very self-satisfied swagger on the man's part, and the cop cleared his throat again much more loudly because he really wanted to get home and they were still in the way.

It was only his third nightshift on the job, but he was wrecked.

"Do you mind?" he said with a sigh.

"Detective?" the tall man said, gesturing grandly out the door with a soft smile.

She grinned up at him, and took his hand in her own as she pushed past the cop with an apologetic nod.

"Sorry."

And they pranced away, the man almost twirling her around him on their way down the stairs.

The cop smirked, and stepped inside the elevator.

"Noobs," he muttered, as the doors closed slowly before him.

* * *

At the base of the stairs, Chloe pulled from Lucifer's hand reluctantly, placing her own on his chest.

It was time for some ground rules.

"Now remember, we can't flirt in the open, and you have to  _try_  to be nice to Dan."

Lucifer nodded, his eyes scanning the precinct as he smiled. "It  _is_  good to be back."

Chloe smirked. "You actually listened to what I just said, yeah?"

His gaze darted to her mischievously. "We flirt heavily everywhere else, and I will afford Dan the same respect as I always have."

Chloe grimaced. "That's not the same thing."

"No, it isn't," he said, grinning.

Sighing, she released him, knowing she couldn't change his general Luciferness, and together they reunited with her desk.

With dizzying speed, Lucifer swept her up into his arms and sat her back gently on top of it, spilling some of the papers stacked behind her.

His gaze was wanting. "Is this considered  _open_ , Detective? There is a wall here."

"Lucifer. It's a glass wall. Stop it."

Then she kissed him quickly, because she couldn't help it, and pushed him away to stand again.

There was a cough behind them, and she smiled at the person standing there as Lucifer stepped aside.

"Hi, Dan."

"Detective  _Dan_ ," Lucifer said with a cocky smirk.

Then he blinked.

"Lucifer," Dan answered shortly, before returning Chloe's smile as she stepped forward to give him a hug. "Good to see you back, Chlo."

"It's good to be back," Chloe said warmly.

"Detective  _Daaan_ ," Lucifer said again, frowning.

His gaze darted to Chloe in alarm.

 _What?_  she mouthed at him.

Dan looked back at Lucifer, his mouth twisting. "Yeah? C'mon, get whatever shitty thing you've got to say out."

"I was trying to say," Lucifer said tersely, before smirking down at Dan again. "That you, Dan, are a very welcome sight."

Dan blinked.

Chloe gave a soft, "Awww."

As Lucifer's eyes grew very wide.

" _What?_ " Dan and Lucifer said to each other.

Dan jerked away from him.

"NO, that is  _NOT_  what I meant to say!" Lucifer stammered, pulling at his collar as he fixed Dan with an angry glare, " I was going to say that  _YOU_ -"

Dan crossed his arms. "Here it comes."

"-are a good father to Trixie, a supportive ex-husband to Chloe, and a fine detective."

Dan's mouth fell open in shock.

Lucifer grabbed the man's shirt desperately, and thrust his face into Dan's. "AND IT'S A PLEASURE TO WORK WITH YOU AGAIN!"

Then he collapsed on the floor with a small noise of pain.

Chloe covered her mouth and tried not to laugh.

And Dan looked up and smiled, standing just a little bit taller.

"Thanks, man."

THE END


End file.
